


The Love That Brings Me Home

by gettingaphdinlarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 5 Times, Band History, Best Friends, Brunette Niall, Canon Compliant, Condoms, Emotional Sex, Emotions, Friendship/Love, Gangbang, Group Sex, Hiatus, Love, Lube, M/M, Multi, Niall-centric, No cheating, OT5, OT5 Friendship, Orgy, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Secrets, Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, but there's none of that here, like God intended, more canon than not, no bdsm, no humiliation or name calling, not actually a gangbang or an orgy but close, sequential threesomes, specifying because those are pretty common in group sex fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-16 23:26:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 38,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9294362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gettingaphdinlarry/pseuds/gettingaphdinlarry
Summary: Even though they’ve just finished a tumultuous tour and a packed promo schedule, Niall Horan isn’t quite ready to let go of One Direction. So he arranges a lads’ holiday on a private tropical island. Just the four of them unwinding, away from the crowds and press, before finally taking a well-deserved break.But Niall knows someone else deserves to be there too, and emotions flare when he tells the others that Zayn will be joining them.Secrets are unravelled, fears are expressed, and old wounds are healed as the five men face their pasts together—and prepare for their futures apart. And on the final night of their holiday, when Niall’s most afraid of it all ending, he finds out exactly how important he is to everyone else.





	1. Liam

**Author's Note:**

> Niall is the heart of it all. He makes 1D better. Similarly, my friends have made this fic better.
> 
> Thank you [@twopoppies](https://twopoppies.tumblr.com/) for the incredible artwork. I absolutely love the time and detail you put into this, right down to his crooked nose. I know we've waited months to share this, and I'm so excited for everyone to see your work!
> 
> Thank you [@mcqdj](http://mcqdj.tumblr.com/) and [@holdmyhalo](http://holdmyhalo.tumblr.com/) for the Niall-related chats and photos, and for your enthusiasm. Thank you [@louandhazaf](http://louandhazaf.tumblr.com/) for your excellent beta job; you caught those things that would drive me crazy as a reader. [@hevab](http://hevab.tumblr.com/), you are the fastest Britpicker ever. Eventually I'll learn to insert the _u_ where it belongs. [@quietasides](https://quietasides.tumblr.com/), thank you for your final copyedit and your close read.
> 
> Finally, thank you to my beta [@myownsparknow](http://myownsparknow.tumblr.com/). It was that one phone call that helped this all fall into place when I was stuck. You make me stay honest to my characters' stories, and you know exactly what to say to me. Let's do this forever.
> 
> There is a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/fanficplaylists/playlist/3sWZu4vjE5IZRx3lkUburl) if you like your fic with music.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

“Can I help with anything?”

Liam glanced up and found Niall a few feet away in the small kitchen of the resort’s simple café. “Want a snack?”

“Sure, what are you making?” Niall washed his hands and opened several drawers until he found a tea towel. He tucked the corners into his belt loops to fashion an apron. “And where’d you send the chefs off to?”

“I’m making those _pat—_ um, those plantain chips.”

“ _Patacones._ ”

“Yeah, those. And I told the chefs to rest.” Liam nodded toward the counter at a pile of pineapples. “Can you cut one of those up?”

“Sure.” Niall twisted the top off the fruit and waved it at Liam, making him giggle and rear back. “Did you know you can grow another pineapple from the top?”

“Really?” Liam shook his head a tiny bit. Niall kept the oddest bits of knowledge tucked away.

“Yep. You can root it.” Niall tossed the top into the bowl of scraps destined for the compost bins. “Why are you doing this yourself?”

Liam shrugged. “I know they can cook anything we want, but…I just want to make my own snack, you know?”

“Next time we pay for a whole island, I’ll send the chefs on holiday and let you take over.”

The whole island was a rather small one, and their modest cottages blended in with the lush jungle surroundings, making it easy to forget about the physical world beyond the shoreline.

The four of them kept their doors unlocked, and they travelled from one cottage to another, seeking each other out when the solitude grew to be too much, excusing themselves when they needed a bit of peace.

Since there was no concern about being seen, it was the first time in a long time that Liam had felt like he wasn’t Liam Payne, Boybander. The only thing that interrupted that freedom was the well-meaning staff. Used to welcoming three times as many guests, they were a little too attentive.

“I make an excellent cook, I’d be great at it,” Liam winked and poured some oil into a saucepan. He turned on the gas flame, picked up two plantains, and eyed Niall. “You hungry?”

“I am.”

“What are Haz and Lou doing?”

Niall laughed. “You know what they’re doing.”

“Each other.” Liam picked up a third plantain. That should be enough. He peeled the fruit and started to cut it into thick slices. “We could afford to send them on holiday. The staff, I mean.”

Niall slowly cut the skin off the pineapple. “True.”

The two men worked in silence until Liam had cut up all of the plantains, and Niall was nearly finished getting the eyes out of the pineapple.

“That’s one of the good things, right?”

Liam eyed the oil, which was bubbling. “Hmm?”

“Being able to pay people to do anything we want. It’s one of the good things.”

Liam found a slotted spoon and dropped the plantain chunks in the pan. “I think,” he said slowly, “sometimes I wish going out to a restaurant was special. I wish cooking at home was normal, you know?”

Niall turned the pineapple and cut out the last line of eyes. “I miss home.”

Liam removed the plantains and put them on a cutting board. He added a little more oil to the pan before rifling through the cabinets to find a glass. He pressed the deep-fried pieces flat, careful not the break them. “Gonna be weird to be home. You still planning that trip with your old mates?”

“Yeah, Southeast Asia, mostly. Then lots of golf stuff.”

“Gonna be great.”

Niall cut wide pieces off of the pineapple and tossed the core in the bowl. “Hope so.”

Liam glanced at Niall. He was too quiet, he wasn’t laughing or joking. Something was wrong. Liam dumped the flattened plantains into the oil again.

“What about you?”

Liam used a spoon to push the fruit around in the pan. “Hmm?”

“You excited to announce your record deal?” Niall plated the pineapple and dug two forks out of the drawer.

Liam shook the pan over the flame gently. “I…yeah, sure.” He frowned and concentrated on not burning the plantain chips.

“And?”

“And what?”

“Sounds like there’s an ‘and’ or maybe a ‘but’ there.”

“And.” Liam shrugged. He had a whole list of reservations about going solo, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to bring them up with Niall. It seemed like it would be rubbing salt in a wound, like talking about it was an act of betrayal.  “I think.”

“OK.” Niall popped a chunk of pineapple in his mouth, and used the same fork to spear a second piece. He held it out in front of Liam. “And?”

Liam looked at the pineapple and then Niall’s mouth. He swayed for a moment, remembering. He put one hand on the counter to steady himself and leaned forward, wrapping his lips around the tines of the fork and tugging at the fruit. It was cold and tart and sweet and a stray drop of juice was racing down the curve of the fo—

“And?”

Liam jumped. “Oh. And. Um, hold on.” He turned a piece over to check how brown it was. Not yet.

“And?”

“Just a few more minutes,” Liam muttered.

_Thwack!_

“What the fuck, Ni?” Liam’s hand flew to his backside. Niall twisted the tea towel into a thick rope and glared at Liam, who leapt out of the way. “Stop it! There’s boiling oil!”

“I’m not snapping the pan,” Niall said, stepping forward quickly and whipping Liam on the hip. “You’re not answering me!”

Liam ran around the other side of the counter, where the resort’s open-air restaurant was sparsely filled with small wooden tables and chairs.

Liam had agreed to a lads’ holiday when Niall had started talking about it, but it was only to placate him. Really, they were supposed to be on a hiatus. As the tabloids endlessly proclaimed, they’d been living in such close quarters and “they surely needed a break from each other.”

Liam just wanted a rest. From everything. He hadn’t even gotten to privately mourn Zayn leaving yet, and pretending it was fine when Harry was making snide remarks in interviews was exhausting.

But then Niall had gone behind their backs and booked everything, and who could say no to renting out an entire island in Panama for nearly three weeks? Liam had to admit, it had been great fun to swim and snorkel and laze around and write some music and owe nobody any time he didn’t want to give up.

And if this wasn’t really a hiatus, but instead the end, well…what a way to go out together, much like they’d come in. Back when the five of them were at the bungalow screwing around and dreaming of fame.

The sound of a towel whizzed through the air. Liam grabbed a lightweight chair and hid behind it at best he could. “Niall! I thought you had bad knees!”

“And what, Liam?” Niall ran around the other side, hitting the back of Liam’s thighs. “You’re excited, _and_ what?”

Liam picked up the chair ran away with it. “Nothing!” he yelled.

“Liar!”

Liam peeked over his shoulder. Niall was nearly on him, his arm poised behind him. Liam spun around, slamming the chair against the ground. “And I’m scared!”

Niall skidded and stopped short, his arm dropping heavily to his side. He panted and gasped. “What?”

Liam gripped the back of the chair and leaned over it. “You heard me!”

Niall frowned. “Why?” he finally asked. He tugged at the hem of his white vest and started chewing on the side of his fingernail.

Liam’s shoulders relaxed and drooped. No matter how many times he had been scolded, Niall couldn’t hide his nervous habit. Liam reached out and touched his wrist. “Hey.”

“Your _patacones_ are probably burning.”

“Yeah.” Liam took the towel from Niall and slung it over his shoulder. He returned to the hob and turned off the flame. Niall leaned against him, and Liam felt Niall’s sun-pink shoulders radiating a soft heat.

“How do you always nail the accent?” Liam asked quietly, removing the food to a plate. “They’re possibly a little too brown, but not burnt. I bet they’ll taste fine.” He ground some salt over them. “Grab the pineapple and forks?”

“Got it.” Niall pinched some napkins in his palm. “Got the napkins, too.”

Liam followed Niall to a table and put the plate down. They both dropped into their chairs, the air humid. “Why’re you scared, Liam?” Niall poked at one of the crunchy plantain chips and blew on it. “It’s just us. Spill.”

Liam pushed from pineapple around the plate with his fork. “I’m just…I’ve always wanted to make my own music, you know?”

“I know, you tried out to be a solo musician.”

“So did you, Niall.” Liam’s eyes met Niall’s briefly. Niall shrugged, dropped his gaze, and didn’t say anything. Liam frowned before clearing his throat. “So I’m excited about getting what I’d always wanted, but then… You know I want to do a different sound, what if nobody takes me seriously? What if nobody likes it?”

Niall shook his head and used the side of his fork to split a chip in half, the steam rising up. “You know how our fans are, they’ll support you.”

“Our fans like our music—”

" _I_ like our music."

“That’s not what I mean. I’m proud of what we’ve done,” Liam said. “And we’ve been writing more of our stuff, fought for that, didn’t we…”

“But?”

Liam put his fork down and leaned back in his chair. He rubbed his earlobe and closed his eyes for a moment before finally looking at Niall, who still wouldn’t make eye contact. “What if my new sound is too different? What if I fail?”

“Don’t talk like that,” Niall said. “You’re not going to fail, fucker.”

“Mate.” Liam’s voice was solid, quiet. Niall’s eyes finally met his. “What if I do?”

Niall held Liam’s gaze; his eyes were clear and steady, like they were back then. The air between the two of them smelled syrupy, too.

They’d eaten too much pineapple before it happened. When Zayn and Liam had been swept up in their first tour, and they’d brought home five ripe pineapples for ten dollars after a midnight run to a grocery store somewhere in Australia.

Harry swore they’d never finish the fruit and when Louis threw one inside the bus, the driver got mad and threatened to toss them all on the road. So Niall promised Zayn and Liam he’d help eat them, but then Zayn said his stomach hurt and went to nap, and that’s how Niall and Liam had ended up in Liam’s room, sat facing each other on the top of the low, long dresser, with a flimsy knife snatched from the restaurant next door to their budget hotel.

“Why’d you get five of them?” Niall asked.

“They were cheap.”

Liam had just needed to get out, get away from their handlers, do something stupid and normal and teenaged. He wasn’t sure buying fruit was stupid, but making bets about who could eat whole pineapples the fastest sure seemed to be.

And maybe Niall had needed to do something stupid, too, when he said, “What do you think it’s like kissing a boy?”

Liam froze. “Huh?”

“Harry and Louis. You think it’s different than kissing a girl?”

“You wonder?”

Niall shrugged and looked at his hands, which were twisted in knots in his lap. Liam could see they were tacky with juice.

Liam barely gave himself time to think before tipping forward, so his own sticky hands were on Niall’s shoulders. His blue eyes were searching, and Liam wanted to find out if he had the answers. “I can show you.”

Niall had licked his lips, nodded, and closed his eyes tightly before whispering, “My braces.”

“Yeah.”

Liam pressed his lips against Niall’s. Softly, because of the braces. He felt Niall’s chest rise, pause, and then fall as his shoulders relaxed under Liam’s touch.

Niall’s lips tasted sweet. Liam’s mouth was raw and Niall’s must have been, too, but he didn’t flinch. Liam pulled back and watched Niall’s eyes flutter open. He blinked, bit his lip, and nodded, his eyes drifting closed again.

Liam kissed the corner of Niall’s mouth, where the skin was a little chapped from the long nights and the early mornings. He kissed his lips again and trailed his hands down Niall’s shirt, until they fitted in the curve of his waist so he could pull him closer.

Niall’s jaw finally fell open and Liam slipped his tongue inside, just a bit, but Niall’s hands flew up and pressed flat against Liam’s chest, searing him.

Oh. Too much.

Liam drew back and Niall curled his fingers into tight balls, tugging at Liam’s shirt.

Oh. Not enough.

Niall took the lead, deepening their kiss, and Liam followed, scooting forward on the dresser. He felt something cold on his knee and realised his jeans were soaking up pineapple juice. Liam giggled and pulled away, then pushed the pineapple and knife to the floor and sat knee to knee with Niall.

Niall moved closer and kissed Liam, firmly at first, like it would be the last time they kissed.

Liam ignored the sting in his gums, the tingle in his cheeks.

Because Niall wanted to know what it was like to kiss a boy, and Liam wanted to know what it was like to kiss Niall.

Languid.

Fluid.

Secret.

Niall loosened his grip on Liam’s shirt and dropped his fists. Liam inhaled sharply and looked at his thighs, where Niall’s hands were splayed open. He felt branded.

Liam’s eyes darted to Niall’s mouth, where his lips were flushed pink. “That’s what kissing a boy is like,” Liam whispered.

Niall pressed their foreheads together. “It’s not like a girl.”

“No.”

“It’s harder.”

“Yeah.”

“But your lips are soft,” Niall said.

“Yours too.” Liam pressed his lips together briefly. “I think it’s the pineapple.”

Niall started giggling, and the laughter seemed to roll through his body until it hit him hard and full and tears filled his eyes. “The…pineapple!” Niall wheezed, hitting his own thigh.

Liam laughed too, his eyes crinkling closed, even though he wasn’t sure what was so funny. “What? It’s true!”

 _Bang! Bang!_ The painting hanging near them rattled as someone pounded on the wall. “Shut up!” Louis roared.

Niall beat on the wall. “Go to bed, wanker!”

Liam had tossed his head back and laughed, shouting, “We’re eating pineapple!”

Then it had been a whirl of energy and doors opening and Louis tumbling in asking why pineapple was on the carpet and why Niall was so flushed and why Liam looked so goofy and all Niall and Liam had been able to do was mutter “it’s the pineapple” over and over again until the words meant nothing.

“Li.” Niall cleared his throat and snapped his fingers in the air a few times. “You there?”

“I’m here, I’m here.” Liam picked up some pineapple with his fingers and sank his teeth into its juicy flesh.

“You’re going to make music the way you want to,” Niall said. “And it’s going to be great. Your voice is solid, and you know how this all works now. You’re not fourteen, or even sixteen. You’re in control.”

“But…” Liam would only admit this to Niall. “I don’t want to compete against Zayn’s album. What if…what if fans feel like they have to choose?”

“Between the two of you?” Niall cocked his head. “If you and Zayn had worked out—” Liam tensed and Niall nudged his foot under the table. “Listen to me. If you two had worked out, would one of you not go solo just to please the other?”

Liam’s stomach twisted at the fact that surely other people had heard Zayn’s new music by now. Nobody else should have heard it before him. “No…”

“So why would you worry about this now?”

“I’m not sure.” Liam picked up the last fried plantain and held it in front of Niall’s mouth. “Want the last one?”

When his teeth—perfectly straight because of those braces—took the starchy, salty round from Liam’s fingers, his lips brushed against Liam’s skin. Liam inhaled slowly and deeply. He needed to go now. He needed to be in his own room, alone, writing or sorting himself out or—

“He’s coming.”

“Excuse me?” Liam’s hand hung in place.

“He’s coming, in a few days, for the last four nights.”

No no no no no. Fuck no. “Have you told Louis?”

“Not yet. Please…don’t?”

“Fucking Christ,” Liam said, standing up and knocking his chair over. “Zayn’s coming?”

“He was part of the group, too,” Niall said. “You know that. Better than anyone.”

“That’s not…” Liam’s voice shook. Zayn only returned his text messages after a gap of several days, not that Liam was much better, ignoring Zayn’s call on his birthday. They were still working out their new status, and Liam wasn’t prepared to see him in the flesh. “That’s not fair. You invited him without telling us?” Liam rubbed the back of his neck. “Fuck! Harry. Have you told Harry?”

“I’ll tell him.” Niall said. He was too calm, too sure.

“This was supposed to be our holiday.” Liam stacked the plates and dropped the forks on them with a clatter. “Ours. He left.”

Liam spun on his heel and walked into the kitchen. He tore the towel from his shoulder and dropped it by the sink. He ran the water and started washing the dishes, refusing to look at Niall. Traitor. This holiday had been going so well, too, dammit.

A hand reached around Liam’s waist and the water stopped running. Niall held the taps in place. Liam threw the sponge on the counter, where it landed with a wet slap. He turned his head to find Niall glaring at him.

“Stop.” There was tension in Niall’s neck, heat behind his eyes as he shook his head once, hard. “You know he was too anxious, hated what we were doing. He wasn’t having fun, and the rest of us weren’t having fun because of him, because of—”

“I was!” Liam said. “I was having fun!”

“Yes, but he left us, not you—”

Liam pounded his palms on the edge of the sink. “I’m a part of us!”

The kitchen went quiet and Niall stepped away. Liam tried to focus on the sound of the insects buzzing, the water lapping against the shore, whatever the birds were saying. Anything to ignore his own heavy breathing.

“Are you mad I invited Zayn here because of us four?” Niall’s voice was thin, lilting. “Or are you mad because of Zayn and me?”

Fuck, that wasn’t the direction Liam had expected this to go. He drummed his fingers on the counter. “We were broken up then.”

“I know, but—”

“I sort of wish you’d come to me.” It came out harsher than he intended, and Liam’s stomach twisted. He wasn’t owed anything. Niall had never been his.

“It was once, we were drunk.”

“I know,” Liam said, softer. But he didn’t know. Who had asked? Who had offered? Was it both? Why had he found out from Louis that they’d fucked? And then Zayn left! Why hadn’t Niall come to him? He would’ve taken care of him. Zayn was probably too rough. No, not probably. He was, Liam was sure of it.

“I’m sorry.” Niall interrupted Liam’s anger with a touch on his lower back. It felt like a test.

Liam didn’t step away, but he also didn’t move closer. He couldn’t decide if that meant he’d passed or failed.

“I thought you two…” Niall stood behind Liam and wrapped his arms loosely around his waist, hooking his chin on Liam’s shoulder. “I thought you two had worked your shit out.”

“I did too.” Liam put his hands on Niall’s arms, rubbing his thumbs against the knobs of his wrist bones. He swayed gently, wondering if Niall would hold on. “You smell like that hotel room.”

“That hotel room? You’re going to have to be more specif—ah!” Niall squeezed Liam’s waist briefly and pressed his cheek into his back, laughing. “My mouth was so sore from all that goddamn pineapple. Who ever thought eating that much topical fruit in one sitting was a good idea?”

Liam turned around so he was facing Niall, whose hands fell from his waist. “Why didn’t you tell me your mouth hurt?”

“’Cause I wanted to know what it was like—”

“To kiss a boy—”

“—to kiss you,” Niall said.

“Me?”

“You cared more than any of us.” Niall tapped the counter once. “I wanted to have fun in a band. You wanted to be a musician. I looked up to you.”

“But…” Liam stopped. But you kissed so many girls, but you were marketed as the baby of the group, the boy next door—who secretly snagged all the fans. But you were excluded so many times when Zayn and me—and Harry and Louis—but…

But what would it be like now?

“You were so soft,” Liam said.

“We were eighteen.”

“So?”

“So I was timid then.” Niall held Liam’s gaze until Liam shifted his weight and looked away. “I’m not so soft anymore.”

Liam inhaled sharply and it was a crush of cheek and stubble, hands and lips and tongue. Tasting like salt and oil and beneath it all, tart and sweet.

Knee to knee and thigh to thigh, Liam pressed against Niall, his head buzzing. The puddle from the sponge soaked a spot through Liam’s t-shirt, and his dick jerked awake. His hands ran over Niall’s arms, trying to decide where to go, whether to stop.

Liam rolled his neck to the side and Niall kissed his jawline, then bit and licked him. The coarse hairs scraped against Liam’s skin, and this would leave marks, but they had no more tours, no more shows, no more pictures.

There was nothing to hide from.

“I—don’t stop.” Liam bucked his hips so he could feel Niall, too.

The weight of Niall’s body lessened and his hands skittered under Liam’s shirt, making him tense. Niall tilted his head and looked at Liam’s lips while he rubbed his nipples. “You’re so fit, Li.”

Slower this time, Liam was kissed, full on the mouth. His heart banged on the wall of his chest, rattling the memories alive. The times when Liam was scared of failing but Niall was afraid he wasn’t having fun. The times when cameras and mics were on and Niall’s eyes begged Liam to answer the questions, because Niall couldn’t lie. The times he’d kissed Niall on the cheek on stage, meaning _nice solo_ or _you seem upset_ and later _thank you for staying_.

Liam pushed his hips up. “Please, please.”

Niall tucked his head into the curve of Liam’s neck and dragged a hand down his stomach. “I’m not stopping.”

Air whooshed out of Liam’s lungs and he murmured, “Not today.”

“Not today.” Niall loosened the bow on Liam’s trackies and pushed his hand under Liam’s pants.

The tips of Niall’s fingers were callused from playing the guitar, and his left-handed grip felt backwards and new. Niall thumbed the head of Liam’s cock and slid his hand up and down. He pulsed his fingers over the shaft, a waving motion of heat and pressure.

Liam’s body jumped under him. “Fuck, Ni, fuck.”

Niall worked his hand faster, the rhythm smooth but frenzied. Liam palmed Niall’s jeans, giving him something to rub against. His other hand held Niall’s cheek while they kissed, hard and relentless.

Liam gasped. “Ni, I—you’re too good.”

Niall pressed his forehead against Liam’s, his eyes searching and finding. “So this is what touching a boy is like,” he whispered.

Time folded over itself. Liam was eighteen again and this was a do-over.

He drove himself into Niall’s fist, knowing he was going to come too soon and years too late.

“Niall, Niall, Niall.” The words were chased away with another kiss, this one everything Niall’s hand wasn’t—it was syrupy slow and it made Liam ache for what could have been and what wouldn’t be.

Niall kissed a trail along Liam’s cheek. “You’re not going to fail. You want this more than anyone else.”

It was what Liam needed to hear, but not from the voice he’d expected to hear it from. Liam squeezed his eyes shut, choked out a sob, and spilled hot over Niall’s hand.

“You’re not going to fail, I promise.” Niall slowed his movements while Liam’s cock throbbed weakly. “You won’t.”

All Liam could do was nod; Niall’s fingers continued to work over him until his breathing was mostly normal and he could think clearly.

“I won’t fail,” Liam said. He found the towel and handed it to Niall.

“You can’t.” Niall wiped his hands and tossed the towel on the counter before shifting uncomfortably, pushing his hand over his jeans.

Liam fitted his hands in Niall’s waist like he had years earlier. He crowded in, pushing him backwards against the wall before kissing him, taking his lower lip in between his teeth. “Let me see what a boy tastes like.”

“Fuck—”

“Let me see what _you_ taste like,” Liam said, undoing the fly and working Niall’s clothes down around his knees. Niall’s eyes closed and his hands rested on Liam’s shoulders.

Liam knelt in front of Niall.

All of the men had seen each other naked in changing rooms, had walked in on each other in the shower, had caught each other wanking in the tight quarters of the tour bus, but Liam took a long moment to study Niall’s cock hanging naked in front of him.

Liam kissed the head of Niall’s dick, a single drop of moisture staining his lips, then let his jaw fall open so he could take Niall in. He curled his tongue under the weight of his cock and glided down, hoping he was good enough for the Niall who wasn’t soft anymore.

He pulled back, swirling his tongue around before kissing the tip again. Niall’s knees shook and Liam opened his hands over his thighs, holding him against the wall. He bobbed his head up and down, feeling how Niall’s dick twitched on each downstroke.

If this was going to be his only taste, he wanted it to be like their first kiss: fluid and languid. It would be their secret.

Niall moaned. “Yes, yes, God, yes,” and Liam kept up the same pace, only pausing occasionally to pull away and look at Niall again. He tried to memorize every vein, the colour of his skin, the subtle curve of his cock.

Finally, fingers twisted the shoulder seams of Liam’s t-shirt and Niall pulled him faster, harder, his own body sliding up and down the wall as his hips moved in a steady rhythm. Liam ignored the burning in his knees and back as he followed Niall’s pace.

“Liam, I can’t, I can’t, I…” Niall’s hands flew to the back of Liam’s head, holding him.

Liam dug his fingers into Niall’s thighs and nodded. Niall tensed all over, rising onto his toes, and then he shuddered and warmth filled Liam’s mouth. It was mild, a tiny bit lemony, and Liam held it, all of Niall, in his mouth. He wasn’t ready to let him go.

“Li, fuck…” Niall said, “Kiss me, please.”

Liam pulled off Niall’s softening dick and swallowed. He kissed the crease of Niall’s thigh and shifted his weight on his knees. Niall threaded their fingers together, steadying Liam as his stood up.

He pulled up Niall’s pants, and then his jeans, which he left undone. Liam leaned in and kissed Niall’s cheek.

Niall turned his head, his eyes shining. “I said kiss me.”

Liam nodded and touched the cleft of Niall’s chin, rubbing against the grain of his hair. “Whenever you want.” He dropped his hand to the space between their chests, feeling Niall’s heart beating under his vest. Liam kissed him long and deep, not afraid anymore.


	2. Harry

Harry wandered down to the beach with a bottle of beer in each hand. He tasted salt in the air and heard a few guitar chords pass by on a breeze. He found Niall in one of the cabanas, squinting against the late afternoon sun. The cabanas blocked the view of the resort while providing an excellent panoramic view of the Pacific Ocean. The illusion of privacy was inviting.

“Hey, mind if I join you?” Harry held out a beer.

Niall looked up from his lounge chair, patted his guitar and nodded toward the notebook near him. “No, mind if I finish?”

“Take your time,” Harry said, putting Niall’s beer on the small table between them and sitting in the other chair.

Niall jotted some things down and gingerly put the guitar on a towel on the sand. He took a long drag of his beer. “Where’s Louis?”

Harry gazed over the water, a pale turquoise blue, the glinting sun making him shade his eyes. “He went into town with Liam and the hosts. Said he needed some hustle and bustle.”

“Fair enough.”

“I think he just wanted some time with Liam.” Harry leaned back in the lounger. “What’re you working on?”

“A song.”

Harry laughed. “Right. I mean, for yourself? For us?”

Niall shook his head. “Never said I wanted to go solo.”

“Don’t know why you won’t consider it.” Harry cast a sidelong glance at Niall. “You still doing the golf stuff?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m excited about it,” Niall said, smiling.

“Modest, though?”

Niall groaned. “We’ve talked about this. Can we just drop it?”

“Cheers, change of subject.” Harry held his bottle up in the air. “So. I got a phone call a couple of days ago.”

“Everything OK?”

“I got the part in _Dunkirk._ ” A smile spread across Harry’s face.

“Mate! That’s amazing!”

“I haven’t told Lou yet.”

Niall frowned and shook his head. “Why the hell not?”

“They’re thinking of giving me a bigger part.” Harry ran his fingers through his hair. “So, it is great…”

“But?”

“They’re filming in Europe for most of it. I’ll need to be gone for a lot longer than I thought. When Louis’ dealing with, well…everything.”

Niall blew air between his lips. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah, oh shit.”

“How… You’ve never been apart that long…”

“I don’t know.” Harry twisted some hair between his fingers. “Goddamn saltwater, my fucking hair.”

Niall raised an eyebrow and shook his head loosely from side to side. “Your hair is a lovely, lovely thing, Mr Harry Edward Styles.”

Harry frowned. “It’s the water, it’s drying it out. I left conditioner in, but the wind still makes it knot up.”

“Got one of those elastic hair things? Or can you get one?”

Harry snapped the hair band on his wrist. “I guess I could put it in a bun.”

Niall slid to the side of his lounger and put his feet in the sand, his knees spread. “I’ll French plait it for you. That should help with the knots.”

“Since when do you know how to plait hair?”

“Since Lottie came on tour. She kept doing it to herself and I couldn’t understand, so she taught me.”

Harry used the edge of his hand to scrape sand away until he found the cool, damp layer. He sat down, wiggling his bum to get comfortable. “How did I not know this?”

“You and Louis were busy that night,” Niall said, raking his fingers through Harry’s hair like a makeshift comb. “I’ll do it loosely since I don’t have a brush.”

“Thanks, Ni.” Harry closed his eyes and tilted his head back so Niall could gather hair from his crown. “I have to cut my hair for the part.”

“Oh, how will that be?”

“I don’t know.” Harry squeezed sand between his hands, watching it fall between his fingers. “What if people hate me because I’m just a rich boybander who can’t act?”

Niall pulled some hair from Harry’s right temple into the plait. “It’s Christopher fucking Nolan. He wouldn’t be giving you a bigger part if he didn’t think you could act!”

When Harry spoke again, his voice was raspy. “What about Louis? I’m going to stay as long as I can, in LA, but…”

“You can Skype each other, call each other, weekend visits… It’ll be OK.” Harry felt Niall cross the plait slowly. “It’s not like when you were younger. It’ll be OK, really.”

“I hope so.” Harry looked out over the water, squinting against the red-orange sun, which was finally starting to sink in the sky. “This resort is great, Ni. Thanks for arranging this trip.”

“Having fun?”

“It’s like a grown-up version of being at the bungalow. Nice way to bring it full circle for all of us, you know?”

“Not all of us.” Niall tugged at the plait and pulled more hair in.

“The ones who matter.”

“Zayn mattered.” Niall’s voice rose. “He matters.”

“Not here now, is he?”

“He’s going to be here.” Niall cleared his throat. “Day after tomorrow.”

Blood whooshed in Harry’s ears and his head pounded. “What?”

“I invited him.” Niall paused. “I told Liam a few days ago. Told Louis yesterday.”

“Louis knows?” Harry’s voice was firm and his spine straightened. “You told Louis before me?”

“It just came up. I wasn’t going behind your back.”

“No, _you_ don’t go behind my back,” Harry said, turning his head fast enough to jerk Niall’s hands. “That’s his job.”

Niall pulled Harry’s head back into place. “Louis didn’t do anything, Zayn apologised.”

“Bullshit, Niall! He got way too fucking handsy, more than once, and you know it—”

“Seriously?” Niall scoffed. “Are you actually complaining that he got _handsy_?”

“That was different.” Harry closed his eyes and counted his breaths. “You didn’t try to break us up, Niall. You comforted me.”

“‘Comfort,’ is that what we’re calling it now?” Niall’s voice was gravelly and low, and it sounded like hurt or understanding. Maybe both.

Harry rolled his bottom lip between his teeth. Niall’s hands were in his hair for the first time in so long. Harry just needed to think, to breathe.

Eleanor had been a joke at first, something Harry and Louis could handle. It was going to fix things, prove that Louis Tomlinson was straight. She was supposed to be a short-term thing. Six months, maybe.

And then six months turned into nine and nine into twelve.

Threats. Stage separation. Training. So much training. “Less…flamboyant, please.”

And when the rumours didn’t stop, Eleanor got more. Trips, festivals, dinners, the Olympics. Their pictures were splashed across gossip sites—with the band, with Louis’ family. With Harry in tow.

Photos of them kissing, just feet away from Harry.

And the nights.

When all Harry wanted was the hard angles of Louis in his bed, an elbow jammed in his back, breath on his neck, the heat of his body between the sheets.

When all Harry got was a single serving of dessert and a cold pillow. When he had hours to fret over how long it would take for Louis to unwind after this time, and the next.

Those nights were the worst.

One time Louis called, his voice just on the edge of slurring. “I’m coming home early, Haz, just gotta take some pap pics. I love you.” Harry’s stomach was warm and his feet tingled. The bed would be full. He took a shower and used Louis’ favourite shampoo and ordered two desserts from room service.

Except when Louis kissed Harry hello, he tasted like lipstick. Harry reeled, anger uncoiling. “You couldn’t even wipe off your _mouth_?”

Louis dragged his wrist across his lips. “Sorry, I thought I had.”

“Well. You didn’t.”

“It’s the pap pics, you know I don’t actually enjoy kissing her!”

The fight escalated fast and hard, a competition neither would win, each positive they had it worse and the other had it all wrong.

When Harry was so tense he thought his spine might snap, Niall walked in the room. “We can hear you.” He tossed a box of tissues and a bag of weed on the bed. “Gifts from Zayn and Liam.”

“Get out, Niall,” Louis said, not taking his eyes off of Harry. “We’re talking.”

“You’re not talking, mate.”

Harry stood in the corner of the room, hands on his hips. “How’d you get in here?”

“Told the girl at the front desk I lost my key, batted my eyelashes, used my Irish charm.”

“Get out, Niall,” Louis said.

“He can stay.”

“One of you get out,” Niall said. “I’ll stay here. Go to my room. Rest, talk in the morning.”

“You should leave. I was here first.” The words curled off Harry’s tongue. “Go with Eleanor. I’m sure she’ll take you.”

“Why the hell would I do that? You’re my boyfriend!”

“And she’s your girlfriend! I’m the one with all the conquests. I sleep with hundreds of girls in a year—apparently—and never, ever taste like _lipstick_! But you, look at you!” Harry leaned forward and dropped his voice. “You’re so lucky, you get a public girlfriend _and_ a secret boyfriend. Me? I’m just the band slag!”

“Harry, stop,” Niall said, leaning against the wall, chewing on his nail. “You’re going to regret—”

“Do you think I want this? You think I like this? I want to be here with you—”

“I can’t do this,” Harry said, walking across the width of the room, his shoulder brushing against the long hotel drapes. “I can’t be the one left behind, I can’t be the one alone, wondering if this is the time you won’t come back.”

Louis exhaled hard. “She’s a fake girlfriend! A beard! Hired fucking help!”

Harry paced, his curls shaking around him. “I know you hate it, but you get to go out and have fun! Parties and trips and some sort of distraction. I get nothing.” He stopped and tears spilled over his cheeks. He wiped them away and said, “Don’t you get it? I get nothing! I don’t even get a distraction!”

“Is that what you want?” Louis dropped to the edge of the bed and ripped the box of tissues open. He yanked some off the top and started tearing them into small pieces. “A fucking distraction? Can’t you just…have a wank or something?”

“I don’t—getting off alone doesn’t make me feel better. It just makes things worse.” Harry threw his hands in the air. “I’m hurt! I just—I want some sort of…release.”

Louis’ voice was cold. “You want to have one-night stands while I’m stuck with goddamn Eleanor?”

“No! I want… Someone who can spoon me, who can be here when you can’t be,” Harry said, his voice pleading and his eyes begging. He knew it was a risk, he knew Louis would strike. They knew exactly how to hurt each other.

“You want someone you can fuck. Someone else who will fall in love with you.” Louis flung the bits of tissue to the ground. “And you still want me to be your boyfriend.”

Even though Harry was expecting it, Louis’ words stung. That was exactly what it sounded like, but it wasn’t the truth.

The truth was worse.

Harry dragged his gaze across Louis’ body. He was hunched over, his shoulders drooping. Harry was suddenly tired. It was time to fix it all or destroy everything.

“I love you, Lou. And I don’t want to lose you. But when you’re with Eleanor, I just want to forget you.”

Niall inhaled sharply and frowned. “Harry…” he whispered.

“You want to forget me?” Louis’ voice broke.

“Only… Just…when you’re with her.”

“I’ve never wanted to forget you. Ever.” Louis narrowed his eyes and fixed them on Harry. “But sometimes I realise none of this would have happened if we never met.”

A stillness filled the room but Harry felt the rumble beneath his feet, the slipping, and the heat, like a volcano bursting forth. His words were the fire and Louis’ pain the ashes, and they were already suffocating.

“I just want a friend who will help me forget. Until morning. Not forever.” Harry closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, filling his lungs again—

“I’m a friend.”

Harry turned toward Niall, his breath trapped somewhere in his chest. Louis spoke for him. “What?”

“I can be a distraction.” Niall bit his lip and frowned, then glanced at Louis. “Except I wouldn’t fall in love with him. And I wouldn’t let him forget.”

“You’re crazy,” Louis said.

“Why?”

“You like girls.”

“Liking girls doesn’t mean I don’t like boys.” Niall picked up the baggie of weed and shook it in the air. “Don’t have to decide now, but c’mon. Stop yelling. You both said shit you don’t mean, admit it.”

Harry’s eyes darted to Louis. Neither of them spoke, but Harry saw the hope hiding behind the hurt in his eyes.

Smoke threaded around them as they sorted out the rules. Nothing beyond blow jobs and hand jobs. Kissing was fine so long as no love bites were visible. Things could happen only when Louis was with Eleanor, and only in Niall’s hotel rooms. Each pair would check in with each other once a month to see how the arrangement was going, and Niall would continue to pull people whenever he wanted. Any one of them could end it at any time.

Beyond that, Louis didn’t want to know what happened, and Harry didn’t want to share.

When his eyes were heavy, and Harry and Louis were leaning against the headboard and each other, Niall made to leave. “I’ll check on you arses in the morning.”

“Niall,” Louis sang. “Please stay.”

“Oh no, I didn’t agree to that,” Niall said, shaking his head and chuckling.

“I don’t mean that,” Louis said. “Just…just to sleep.”

That night Harry had fallen asleep with Louis’ elbow jammed in his back and Niall’s breath on his neck, and in the morning he had woken up finally feeling a sense of relief.

Harry rolled his head forward so Niall could continue plaiting his hair, his hands near the nape of his neck. “You…you protected us, Niall.”

“I don’t get how I protected you.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“I got in the middle.”

Harry started ticking things off on his fingers. “You said Larry Stylinson was a friend of yours, you said you were our spokesman, you deflected things in interviews. Really, Ni? You don’t know how much you helped us?” He shook his head and continued, his voice shakier. “You danced with me on stage, let me use you as…an outlet for all of my energy. You were a friend to both of us, even when I was supposed to be the arsehole loner. I said I’d do you if I were a girl and you just…let me. You didn’t even flinch.”

“Let you?”

Harry nudged a shoulder into Niall’s thigh. “Yeah, let me. If I were a girl for a day, I’d do you, Niall.”

“I guess you couldn’t say Louis.” Niall used a high-pitched voice. “‘Oh my God! Larry’s real!’”

Harry shook his head and laughed. “No, I didn’t say Louis ’cause he’s gay. He wouldn’t want girl me.”

“That’s true, good point.” Niall chuckled, and his voice dropped. “And when Louis was away…”

Harry watched crabs chasing each other on the cream-coloured sand. They skittered sideways in order to move forward. It felt like a metaphor. No matter how many times Harry had thought he’d finally come out—not that important, Jesus!—he was only moving sideways.

“When Louis was away, I did Niall.” Harry frowned. “Are you mad about that? I thought…I thought we were all on board.”

“No, I’m not mad.” Niall pulled in the last bit of hair, his pinky brushing against the thin skin of Harry’s neck. “I just don’t understand how you can be upset at Zayn for getting handsy—which never went anywhere!—when you and I got each other off, for years.”

“’Cause Louis knew what we were doing.”

“Hell, half the time we just ended up staying up and playing video games, eating pizza.”

“I know, right? But it felt…different. I don’t know how.”

“Does Louis know we didn’t fool around every time?”

“I don’t know, really.” Harry gazed at the setting sun, just a thin crescent over the ocean. A warm breeze carried the briny scent of the water.

The stars would be out soon, and if Zayn were here, he’d be looking for the North Star, like he had every night on tour. It’d become a bit of a competition, to see who could find it first. Really, most things between the them became competitions.

Harry rubbed his eyes. “Remember that time we were eating sushi and I lost some round of _Mario Kart_ or something?

“Yep. Had to eat the entire ball of wasabi paste in one bite! Never seen your eyes water like that before.” Niall slapped his thigh. “Best bet ever!”

“Horrible bet, horrible idea, but I brushed my teeth, remember? To get rid of the taste?”

“Yeah, you fucking used my toothbrush. Could taste wasabi the next time I used it. Blech.”

“That night, Louis tasted the mint of the toothpaste and thought it meant I was trying to cover up the taste…of you.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah, I tried to explain what happened, but it all just got awkward. We never really talked about it.” Harry dug his palm into the sand, feeling it scratch his skin.

“Is that why you started brushing your teeth every time, too?” Niall found speed with Harry’s plait.

“Yeah, then it never mattered. If we did anything or not, I mean.”

Niall held out his hand. “Plait’s done. I need the band.”

“You really did help me.” Harry handed Niall the hair band and pressed his cheek against the inside of Niall’s thigh, where the skin was soft and pale and the hair was sparser. He kissed the side of Niall’s knee. “Us.”

Maybe Niall’s voice caught for a brief second before he spoke. Maybe Harry just hoped it had before Niall said, “What would’ve happened if… I mean, I promised…”

“We’d caught feelings for each other?”

“Yeah.” Niall’s voice was quiet and his right thumb was grinding into the knot in Harry’s shoulder. There was always a knot. Niall must have remembered.

“Do you wish we had?” Harry cleared his throat. “Did you?”

“No,” Niall said. His voice sounded almost honest and Harry’s stomach fluttered. “But at the beginning I was afraid.”

“I was a little afraid, too. Of a lot of stuff.” Harry rubbed the inside of Niall’s foot with his thumb, sugar-fine sand filling the creases in his instep.

Niall giggled. “That tickles.”

“Sorry.” Harry turned to look at Niall. “You need more sunscreen. You’re pink here.” He pointed to the bridge of Niall’s nose, to the high points on his cheeks. “I have some aloe gel.”

Niall brushed his fingers against the curve of Harry’s hairline. “I missed a bit, in the plait I mean.” He twisted a lock of hair around his fingers and leaned forward so he could pull it back, pushing the end into the rest of Harry’s hair, tucking it away. “What were you afraid of?”

Harry gazed at Niall. His face glowed in the last bits of sunlight, the dimple in his chin still sharp under a layer of stubble. Something had happened during their last tour, during the time Harry hadn’t needed him. Niall’s features had hardened, but underneath he still had a sweetness to him. Like Niall believed people were good and everything would work out.

That had been driven out of Louis.

And Harry.

Harry shifted his weight so he was on his knees, fully facing Niall. He tugged on the hem of Niall’s shorts, brushing against the underside of his thigh. “Make room for both of us up there.”

“Harry…”

“Or come down here.” Harry sat back on his feet. “I have to tell you what I was afraid of.”

“Harry…”

“Louis and I talked. He won’t be mad. It’s…our last time together. This trip. All four—five—of us.” Harry rubbed his fingertips under Niall’s shorts, reaching higher. “And us, too.”

Niall shifted forward, his legs opening more. He didn’t look at Harry. “You don’t need me, anymore. He’s coming back tonight.”

“I need you.” Harry put both hands on top of Niall’s legs and rubbed them up and down, catching his shorts, pulling the fabric up. “Please?”

Niall met Harry’s eyes for a long moment. “Harry…”

Then the air shifted and Niall slid off the chair, pushing Harry backwards and straddling him. Harry wriggled against the sand, kicking his feet to push the lounger out of the way.

Their kisses were bruising, hard. They always had been. As if all they had ever needed when they were together was a firm presence, a weight to push against.

Niall ground his hips down into Harry, who arched up against him, wrapping one hand around his waist and the other around his shoulders. Harry pulled Niall firmly against him and wound a leg behind Niall’s knee to get leverage.

“What were you scared of?” Niall kissed Harry’s neck, barely grazing his skin.

“Too soft, too soft.” Harry rolled his head to the side, trying to follow Niall.

“No marks. I know the rules.”

“No, no, no rul—” Harry shook his head, making his throat catch against the angle of Niall’s chin. Stubble. Niall had always been pretty clean-shaven, but now the prickly hairs dragged across Harry’s skin. “Fuck, fuck.”

“What were you scared of?” Niall licked the shell of Harry’s ear and rubbed a thumb over Harry’s lower lip.

Harry rocked into Niall, his cock pushing against the mesh liner of his swim trunks. He bit Niall’s thumb, his teeth sliding off the slick nail. “I was afraid Lou and me would break up, and.”

“And?” Niall pushed his hips down in time with his demand.

Harry’s back arched. “I was afraid you’d feel used.”

“I didn’t. I don’t.” Niall tucked his head into Harry’s neck and started licking, small strokes. Nothing that would leave a mark.

“I’m sorry we didn’t know. When it was our last time.” Harry curled his fingers into Niall’s flesh, wondering if he could push hard enough to leave his fingerprints behind.

“It had to end eventually.” Niall sucked on Harry’s neck, a flash, a moment so short Harry worried that he’d imagined it. “I was afraid I’d make it worse.”

Tears gathered at the edges of Harry’s eyes. He squeezed them shut and dragged his hand down Niall’s back, the skin slick in the humidity. Harry rubbed his palms together, brushing the sand off and letting the grains fall over Niall. Then he patted Niall’s hip, trying to get him to shift, lift a little. “And, I was afraid I’d fall in love with you.”

“You loved Louis, that’s the only reason I was there.” Niall’s hips lifted, a movement smooth and barely noticeable, just enough room for Harry to slip his hand between them. “And I promised I wouldn’t fall for you.”

“I know.” Harry nodded and opened his eyes, Niall shimmering in wet waves above him, hair curling over his forehead. He bit his lip. Harry wrapped his hand around Niall’s dick, feeling the underside of the head. He started pulling, trying to remember. “I know,” he choked out.

“What’s wrong?” Niall spoke around firm kisses.

“I can’t…I can’t remember how you like it.”

“With you?” Niall’s brow furrowed and he jerked his hips. “Hard and fast.”

Harry nodded and tugged, too hard and too fast, but the right speed for Niall. Niall’s breath was damp on Harry’s skin, and a hand came up to grab Harry’s shoulder, pushing it into the sand. Harry felt the edges of broken shells dig into his shoulder as Niall adjusted himself, getting the right amount of pressure. “I’m trying, Ni.”

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

Harry buried his face against the flat plane of Niall’s chest. It burned, the skin sun damaged. “You kept your promise.”

“Mm.”

This was their last night. He and Louis would be on their own after this. There would be no fans, no tours, no crew. No One Direction.

No Niall.

Niall exhaled hard and rolled his hips up and down. “Harry, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

Harry kept the same rhythm, but his heart jumped unevenly. He tried twice before he finally managed to whisper. “I was afraid you’d keep your promise. And you did.”

Niall’s head jerked up. “Fuck!” He spurted over Harry’s hand. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Harry, don’t…shh, shh.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Harry looked away, feeling the heat of Niall slip between his fingers. He touched Niall’s cock for the last time, trying to hold the memory in his fingertips. “I know, the rules. I know.”

Niall groaned and shimmied his hips away from Harry. His weight moved up Harry’s body so he was kneeling over him. “Harry, look at me, please.”

“Please don’t tell him, please Niall.”

Niall cupped Harry’s face in his hands. “Look at me.”

Harry didn’t want to look, he didn’t want to hear, but he owed him. For every time Niall was a hard body in the middle of the night, for every time Niall stroked his hair and promised him Louis was coming back, for every time Niall talked about their futures. When they’d be off-tour, when their contracts were finally over. He owed him.

Harry forced his eyes open, blinking hard. Niall leaned down, the angles of his face cast in shadows. His eyes were shining and wet. “I kept my promise because I loved you, Harry. I didn’t want to lose you. So I kept the promise.”

Harry’s eyes snapped shut and he sobbed. “I loved you, too.”

Whispering, lips against Harry’s forehead. Mumbling. “I kept the promise to keep you. Lou’s perfect for you, Haz. I mean it. I kept it to keep you, I kept it to keep you…”

“Please, please, I needed you, Ni.” Niall rolled off Harry and pulled his shorts down, making Harry’s dick jump free. “I need you.”

Niall’s mouth was on him, around him, and Harry’s hands found Niall. Muscle memory took over, one hand on the back of Niall’s head, the other around the side. Harry’s thumb fit into the curl of Niall’s ear, rubbing and tugging it. He had no idea why it soothed Niall, but it did, made him relax, made him breathe more easily as he bobbed up and down over Harry’s dick.

Harry forced his hips to stay still. Niall, Niall, Niall. Still hips with him.

Niall slid down Harry’s cock and then there was the lightest pressure on his shaft. Harry gasped.

He used his teeth.

“Teeth—fuck—I forgot.” Niall pulled off quickly and Harry shoved his head down. “No, don’t stop, I forgot, how could I forget—”

He was reeling out, spinning and the earth was moving. Harry stared at the sky, trying to find the North Star. It moved, that was the problem. Every night, every new city, the North Star lived in a different place.

Niall’s pinched the soft flesh of Harry’s hips and there was a scrape against the base of his cock and its head was against the smoothness of Niall’s tongue and Harry couldn’t wait. “Ni, I—I—”

A final nod, an invitation. Harry shot hard into Niall’s mouth, his muscles tensing, holding, throbbing and then finally slack. Harry’s head dropped to the sand, his mouth open and his breathing heavy.

Niall kissed Harry’s dick once more and pulled the shorts back up, snapping the soft waistband. He sprawled out on the sand. “Come here.”

Harry rolled into Niall’s side, wrapping his limbs around him. When he closed his eyes, when he touched Niall’s chest, he could be anyone, but if he could sneak into his favourite spot…the one he never told Niall about… Harry pressed his palm against Niall’s chest, feeling it lift and fall.

“Hey, Haz,” Niall whispered. “You awake?”

He wasn’t, not really, but Harry forced his eyes open. “Yeah?”

Niall was pointing. “Look, that’s the North Star, right? Isn’t that the Little Dipper?”

“Oh God…”

“Sorry to wake you, just wanted you to see.”

Harry nuzzled into the curve of Niall’s arm, the dark, soft hairs tickling his nose. He exhaled slowly and inhaled deeply. The scent was Niall, and it was his for now.

“Shh, shh, it’s OK. Louis’ coming back.” Niall fingers worked their way under his braid, rubbing his scalp. “I promise, I promise. He’s coming back. He always does.”


	3. Louis

“Hey, Lou, can I come in?”

Louis jumped and shuffled the papers spread across the bed in his room. The sun had set and dinner—or the paperwork, Louis couldn’t be sure—sat heavy in his stomach. “Hey, Ni, what’s up?” Louis pushed his limp fringe across his forehead, his brow dotted with moisture.

“Did you get contracts, too? I thought the courier had more than one envelope.” Niall entered the cottage and waved a thick stack in the air. “I got mine.”

Louis’ shoulders dropped and he surveyed the scene in front of him. Papers—individual sheets and thick stacks—were strewn across the duvet. Louis swept them up in a haphazard pile. “I thought we were done.” He dropped the pile on the teak floor. “Is this ever going to end?”

Niall slid his papers onto the dresser, his back to Louis. “I thought it was, we were promised…”

“You know his promises mean nothing.”

“No, they never have.” Niall turned around and leaned against the dresser. His fingers moved rapidly, weaving something over and under them.

“Is that your guitar pick?” Louis’ eyes narrowed. “Where’s your guitar?”

Niall froze and balled his hands into fists, shoving them deep in his pockets. “I’m not biting them.”

Louis’ eyes softened. If Niall was playing with his guitar pick, his cuticles were a mess, gnawed on and then scratched over with the pointed end of the pick. He stood up and motioned toward Niall. “Come on.”

Niall shook his whole upper body. “I’m not biting.”

“I know, it’s worse.” Louis touched Niall’s back and pushed him toward the bathroom. “On the toilet.”

Niall entered the en suite and flipped on the light. He dropped onto the toilet lid and popped the corner of his thumb in his mouth. “I thought we were done.”

Louis rummaged through Harry’s toiletries bag and dug out a small bottle of vitamin E oil. He unscrewed the cap and knelt in front of Niall. “I know, me too.” He held out his free hand. “Can I have it?”

Niall sighed and dug the bit of plastic out of his pocket. He pressed it into Louis’ palm. It was warm, the brand name nearly worn off. Louis looked at the pick, then tossed it on the counter.

Louis dripped some oil over his hands and rubbed them together. He held his left hand out, palm up. Niall put his right hand on Louis’ and sighed as Louis drizzled the thick liquid over his nail beds. Louis put the bottle down on the tile and massaged Niall’s pinky finger. “It’ll make it heal, but you’ve gotta leave it alone, Ni.”

“I know.”

Louis sank back onto his haunches, settling in before moving onto Niall’s ring finger. “Remember the last time I did this?”

Niall laughed. “I think it helped me win those games.”

It had happened during the short break before the last leg of the _On the Road Again_ tour. After visiting their families for a few days, the men had met in London to spend some time together and hash out the details of their hiatus—or attempt to.

At first, Niall had just played with the pick. But after days of trying to sort out exactly what their plans were, he started using the pick to clean under his nails. Then he pushed back his cuticles.

One night was particularly contentious. Harry admitted he was attending casting calls for multiple movies, and Liam had demanded to know how Niall could “even think of working with that fucking company again.” After Harry stormed off to his room, while Liam was smoking a joint on the porch, Louis caught Niall nursing a beer and scratching long lines into his skin, a tiny burr in the edge of the plastic scraping against him.

Louis caught his wrist and dragged him to the bathroom. “Sit down. I’ve got something that will help.”

Louis started rubbing vitamin E oil on Niall’s fingers. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t believe we’re breaking up.”

Louis shook his head. “We’re not breaking up.” He worked on the rest of Niall’s hand and started massaging the thumb of his other hand.

Niall slumped his shoulders. “I want to sing ‘Temporary Fix.’”

“I’m sure you do.” Louis smirked and winked at Niall. When he was finished, he patted his knee. “Rub in any extra, we’re going bowling.”

“Bowling? With oily hands?”

Louis twisted the cap back on the bottle and stood up. “We’ll play a reverse game, where the goal is the lowest score.”

Niall stood up and brushed his thighs. “I’ll just throw gutters.”

“Each gutter ball is ten points.”

“Fuck.”

“Perfect game is twenty points. Two pins per frame, no more.”

“That’s weird.”

“I know. Find your grungiest tee and a hat. Let’s go,” Louis said.

An hour or two later they were halfway through their second game and their third pints. Niall picked up a floppy slice of pizza and bit off a chunk. “This is so shitty it’s good.”

Louis pulled a piece of pepperoni from his slice and looked at it. “I can see the grease. This is great.”

Niall glanced at the scorecard they were keeping. “Let me take my second ball.” He stood up, scuffed his feet against the stained carpet and picked up his ball. Niall walked to the approach and studied the arrows and the pins. The ten pin in the back right was down. Now it was time to get the seven pin. He shifted to the left a few steps and aimed, his arm following through in a smooth arc.

The ball slid down the lane and then started rolling when the lane’s oil pattern changed. It teetered right along the edge of the gutter and Niall bent over. “C’mon, c’mon.”

_Crash!_

The seven pin hit the wall while the eight pin wobbled. It righted and stayed standing and Niall pumped both fists in the air. “Two points total for that frame. Fuck yeah.”

Louis wrote down Niall’s score and groaned. “How come you bowl better the more you drink?”

“’Cause I’m Irish!” Niall collapsed on the chair and adjusted his baseball cap. The bowling alley was dark and they hadn’t been bothered, although some teenage girls at the other end kept looking at them a bit funny.

“We’re doing it,” Louis said, lifting his glass. “We’re so close to escaping.”

Niall clinked his glass against Louis’. “So close!”

Louis took a swig of his beer and leaned across the table. “Hey! I’ve got an idea!”

Niall raised an eyebrow over the rim of his pint, swallowed hard, and slammed the glass down. He leaned forward, drawing in close to Louis. “What?”

“You know how he’s gonna show up in London? Trying to look like he belongs at our shows, like we want him there?”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s fuck something up!” Louis’ eyes widened.

“You’re already fucking things up with those goddamn teddy bears.”

Louis shrugged. “Nah, man, we’re just appreciating a gift from a fan.”

“You’d better hope nobody asks about those gay bears in an interview.”

“Nobody’s gonna ask.” Louis stood up and pulled his chair closer, then tumbled back into his seat, knocking against Niall.

Niall laughed and poked him. “You’re pissed, mate.”

“Fuck yeah!” Louis drained his beer and leaned over, whispering, “But listen, Ni. You know he’s going to screw everything up for us—or try—”

“What’s new?”

“I know, but let’s…let’s…”

“What?”

Louis frowned. “I don’t know. We should do something on stage.”

“Kinky gay teddy bears.”

“We gotta say something. That way it can’t be blamed on anyone else.”

“Like a lyric change?” Niall sipped his beer and rolled his eyes.

“No, bigger. I know, let’s tell him to fuck off!”

Niall touched Louis’ forehead with the back of his hand. “You sick? We can’t do that.”

“Who’s gonna stop us? Him? We’ve already left.” Louis pushed Niall’s hand away roughly and then pointed at the tray on the centre of the table. “Can I have the last slice?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Niall said, gazing into the distance. He picked up the pen and tapped it against the table several times. “But it would be kinda fun…”

“Maybe Harry and I can just kiss on stage—”

“No.”

“Everyone would lo—”

“The entire promo would be about you coming out. No.”

“Ni—”

“‘Infinity.’” Niall’s head started bobbing up and down. “That’s it. That’s the one.”

“What?”

“‘Everybody wants you’ could become ‘nobody wants you.’”

“Nah, ain’t on the set list.”

“It could be,” Niall said slowly.

Louis had shoved the last bit of crust in his mouth and chewed hard. “Niall the church boy, what’s happened to you? Becoming Niall the bad boy.”

“I learned it from watching you and Zayn.” Niall had turned the scorecard over and written INFINITY across the top of the sheet. He’d draped his right arm over Louis’ shoulder and pulled him into an awkward hug. “Sober up, help me plan this…”

“Oh fuck,” Louis had said. “We’re really gonna do this?”

The air was muggy as Louis massaged Niall’s thumb. The skin was the roughest here, red and raw. Niall winced. “I know, stings, huh?” Louis said. “Switch.”

“We gonna go bowling?” Niall gave Louis his other hand. “Wasn’t that the night you convinced me to say ‘not anymore?’”

“It was your idea.”

“Liar.”

Louis hit Niall on the knee. “Take responsibility for your actions, didn’t your mum teach you anything?”

“How drunk was I?”

“Just drunk enough.” Louis grinned and met Niall’s eye. “Still can’t believe you said that. He never expected you to say something like that.”

“Are these new papers his way of getting back at us for that? Or for refusing to go on at Belfast? Or for not touring?”

“Or Zayn leaving?”

“But Zayn got something out of that.”

“Did he?” Louis rubbed circles into Niall’s skin. His left hand was stronger than his right. Louis wondered if his own right hand was noticeably stronger.

Niall shrugged. “He should. Album’s coming out in a few months.”

“But did he win? He’s still stuck too, isn’t he?”

“I dunno. He won’t really talk to me about it. Or, he hasn’t. Maybe he will later.” Niall jiggled a leg. “Harry was really mad at me for inviting him here.”

“Harry’s fine.” Louis squeezed Niall’s finger. “They’re working their shit out.”

“They’re drinking. Alone. Together. In a bar in town. If one of them doesn’t come back, we’re going to have to dredge the bottom of the ocean looking for a body.”

Louis laughed. “Niall! So dark!”

“Church boy no longer! This fucking band ruined me!” Niall grew quiet. He looked away and shrugged. “I thought everyone would understand why I invited him, I didn’t think you would all get mad at me.”

“I wasn’t mad.”

“Liam was. And Harry, well, you know how mad he can get.”

“Yeah, bit scary, isn’t it?” Louis rubbed Niall’s thumb. “All done, let’s go to the other room.”

Niall looked at his fingers. “Thanks, Lou. This should help.”

Louis left the bathroom, turning the light off. In the main room he tapped Niall’s stack of papers. “Can I look?”

Niall stretched out on the bed. “Yeah, I don’t care. Wanna talk about you, too.”

Louis adjusted the pillow and lay down next to Niall. “Ugh, do we have to? I can’t believe they’re going through with it. She keeps demanding more money. Where the fuck did they find her?”

“In that shithole known as L.A.” Niall plucked at the smooth coverlet, pinching bits of it. “What’re you going to do without Harry?”

“Fuck. I dunno.” Louis scanned Niall’s docs. Golf. Well, could be worse. “Going to reach out to some artists, see if I can do some collabs. You wanna come out to L.A. and visit? When you’re done with your trip?”

“Yeah, I might be there anyway for—” Niall coughed. “Oli’ll be with you, yeah?”

Louis handed Niall the papers. “Yeah, he’ll be there, but… Did Harry tell you about _Dunkirk_?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m so happy for him, really.” Louis said. “I’m just… I’m afraid it’s never going to end, and the longer it goes on, the longer _she_ goes on—”

“‘She’ your new girlfriend, you mean?”

“Yeah, I’m praying her character lives just so she can film more—”

“What’s her character? I’ve never even seen that show.”

Louis laughed and smacked his thigh. “You and me both, mate.”

Niall smiled and poked Louis. “Could be worse, at least she can’t write a whole album abo—”

“Stop!” Louis shouted. “Don’t you dare!”

Both hands held up in a gesture of resignation, Niall chuckled. “Sorry, sorry.”

“I’m just…” Louis dropped his hands over his eyes, blocking out the light, making it easier for him to talk. “I’m tired…”

A heavy silence filled the room before Niall finally said, “Bit worried?”

Under the weight of his arm, Louis shook his head. “Yeah, bit worried.” Louis rolled over and buried his face against Niall’s side. He wrapped an arm around Niall’s waist and hugged him. “Harry won’t be there the whole time. Oli’s fine, but he’s not…you guys.”

“And it’s not like we’re on tour and you can be in a new city every night.”

“Right, I’m gonna have to be there for it all. Faking it.”

“You’re shit at faking it.” Niall ruffled Louis’ hair. “As if you’re not gonna break the rules!”

“I’m gonna try.” Louis huffed.

“Wonder if you can announce they’re twins? Really fuck with their plans?”

“Ah, shit, too bad the bears never hinted at that.”

“I’m sure someone on Tumblr could draw a connection for you,” Niall said, patting Louis’ back. “It’s gonna be fine in the long run.”

“Just shit in the short.”

“‘Story of my life,’” Niall belted out before breaking into a fit of giggles. He gasped and continued. “‘I take her home!’”

“You never get the girl to take home.”

“Oh hey! Somewhere in those papers I get some fake girlfriend for, like, four days. Some Danish woman.”

“Only four days?” Louis reached up and tweaked Niall’s nipple through his t-shirt. “Oh no, Niall, forever single.”

Niall smacked Louis’ hand. “Goddammit, that hurts!” Niall wriggled and shifted, then pinched Louis’ hip, making him twitch and roll over. Niall grabbed Louis’ back and waist where he could, tickling him.

“Stop, stop! I can’t breathe,” Louis said, trying to reach for Niall.

Niall rolled into Louis, pinning one arm under his shoulder. “Gotcha!”

“You’re wiry.” Louis panted, trying to fight back. “Fine, fine, you win.”

Another pinch to his waist made Louis’ body curl hard. He rolled toward Niall, the only way he could with his arm still trapped, and his knee hit Niall in the groin.

“Fuck, Lou!” Niall groaned and grabbed himself, turning to the side.

Louis scrambled into a kneeling position. “Shit, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, was an accident. You OK?”

Niall shook his head and then glared at Louis. “I guess it’s good I’m the perpetually single one who doesn’t need my family jewels, eh?”

“If only the fans knew the truth! I can see the headlines now.” Louis flopped onto his back and moved his hand in a wide arc in the air. “‘The secret sexual relationships in 1D: Niall’s had everyone—except for Louis, a source close to the band reveals.’”

“‘Niall’s secret trysts with fans—’”

“‘Male and female!’” Louis added.

Niall lowered his voice and put on an American accent. “‘Hiatus or breakup? Secret source reveals the real reason 1D broke up: Louis Tomlinson pines for Niall Horan.’”

Louis gasped. “I pine for _you_? Au contraire, my friend, I believe it is you who pines for _me_.” He nodded and dropped his hand to his chest.

Niall giggled. “It’s the blue eyes.”

“God, those headlines, they’re like bad fridge poetry. Where do they get that shit?”

“You know where.” Niall popped an eyebrow and then grinned. “But really, you do have nice eyes. Blue’s my favourite colour. Never see ’em in the mirror or anything.”

“Arse,” Louis said with a laugh.

Niall settled back against the bed. “Is kinda funny that I’ve kissed everyone in the band except you.”

“Well, I am the long-term relationship one,” Louis said.

“Except for that pesky one night stan—”

“We should kiss.”

“Mate, how much did you have to drink before I came over?”

“I’m serious,” Louis said.

Niall looked at Louis and frowned. “Why would we kiss now? You’ve never found me fit before.”

“What? Do you actually think that?”

“Yeah, I’m like your little brother—”

“You had Harry.”

“I never had him.”

“Fine.” Louis held up a hand. “Harry had you. I couldn’t…fuck that—you, us, whatever—up. But Ni, he and me, we talked. You know that.”

Niall pursed his lips. “I do.”

“It’s our last time together as a band, for a long time.”

“Maybe ever.”

“Maybe? Maybe not.” Louis rested his hand on Niall’s stomach, and felt his body sink as he exhaled sharply. “But c’mon, how come I’m the only one who doesn’t get a piece of you?”

“Oh, I’m just that easy?” Niall gazed at Louis.

“If you were easy, we would’ve kissed before tonight.” Louis batted his lashes and pouted. “Maybe I’m not fit enough?”

Niall rolled his eyes and propped himself up on one elbow, hovering over Louis’ face. “Fine.” He pressed a hard, dry kiss to Louis’ mouth. “Happy now?”

Louis looked at Niall and bit his lip. “No. Joking aside, I’m serious. I want to kiss you.” He touched Niall on the nose. “For real.”

There was a moment of hesitation and then Niall’s head dipped down and Louis’ eyes closed and he inhaled and held his breath. And then Niall’s lips were on Louis’ and Niall’s hand was on his chest, and Louis was kissing someone new for the first time in years.

Louis’ toes tingled and his jaw relaxed. Niall’s hand drifted down to Louis’ waist and his tongue slipped into Louis’ mouth.

Fuck. Louis moaned and felt the pressure of Niall against him. It had been so long since he’d been with anyone other than Harry.

No, no Harry, not tonight. Louis shoved those thoughts aside. This wasn’t about Harry.

This was about Niall, who somehow knew exactly what to say when Louis was being dragged through the mud in the press. Niall, who laughed at every single stupid joke Louis made on stage. Niall, who didn’t even seem to know he’d be the one in charge of bringing the band back together.

Niall, who was pulling back, wait wait—Louis’ hand found the back of Niall’s neck and held him in place. “Don’t stop.”

“Lou, if I don’t stop, I’m not going to—”

“Good.” Louis’ fingertips dug into Niall’s hair. They twisted out of habit. Niall’s short hair slid out of Louis’ grasp.

Oh right, this was what short hair was like.

“Good,” Louis repeated, rubbing his fingertips against Niall’s scalp. He lifted his head from the pillow and found Niall’s mouth again, their noses bumping together. Louis giggled and tilted the other direction, fitting himself against Niall. He never turned his head this way; it felt strange.

Louis didn’t want to stop.

Niall’s hand held Louis’ waist, but the rest of his body was too far away. Louis shifted against the mattress, trying to work himself under Niall’s touch, beneath his body. He slid his arms down to Niall’s hips and pulled at the pockets of his jeans.

Niall drew back from Louis’ mouth and inhaled deeply. “Lou, you sure?”

Louis’ eyes travelled across the contours of Niall’s face, the soft peaks of his mouth and the smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. “Yeah.”

“Do we need…” Niall cleared his throat and looked away. “Do we need to go to my room?”

Oh. The rules. Right.

“I—I don’t know. We didn’t talk about that.” Louis yanked at the fabric around Niall’s hips. “Can’t we just…not think? Just not worry?”

Niall smothered Louis’ words with another kiss and moved over him, flattening his hips against Louis’ before kissing his jaw and throat.

Head thrown back, Louis rubbed his hands over Niall’s skin, under his t-shirt. Niall’s breathing pattern was new and Louis tried to memorize it, the little noises Niall made as he sucked on Louis’ ear.

A warmth filled Louis’ groin and his cock grew hard, aching for some sort of friction. He rocked his hips up and Niall ground against him, his arse wiggling from side to side.

Louis gasped and he nudged Niall away from him so he could tuck his head against Niall’s neck, tasting the salt on his skin. He kissed Niall, hiding his face.

Giving himself room to breathe.

He knew his cock didn’t belong to Harry. He could think of any number of men—strangers, footie stars, friends he only fantasised about while drunk—and get a hard on. Of course his mind had drifted before during sex. But surely this was different?

He was under Niall, hard because of him. For him.

His body was betraying him.

Louis wrapped his arms around Niall’s back, pulling him close so Louis’ body couldn’t revolt and push him away. “Niall, fuck, Jesus.”

“Lou,” Niall moaned over the buzz of insects and nocturnal creatures in the jungle. He left a trail of kisses on Louis’ jaw. “Everything’s gonna be fine, I know it.”

The undulating rhythm of Niall’s voice grounded Louis and he squeezed his eyes shut, just listening. “Promise?” Louis pushed down against the bed and Niall’s body followed.

“I’ll visit. As much as you need.” Niall nipped at Louis’ neck. “Your shirt. It’s too hot.”

Louis loosened his grip and found the hem of Niall’s t-shirt. He tugged it upward, managing to sit up in the same clumsy movement. Niall pulled Louis’ shirt off and rubbed his hands over Louis’ chest and stomach.

His hands were still soft from the oil.

Louis reached for Niall’s fly. “Can we—not your pants, just—”

“Pants on, fine.” Niall swiftly undid Louis’ zip and scooted back, pulling Louis’ jeans below his knees. Louis’ cock strained the fabric of his briefs and he fumbled with Niall’s clothes, the zipper tugging unevenly.

“Dammit.”

“Should’ve worn pyjama bottoms,” Niall said, tilting his pelvis forward and giving Louis more room to work. “Need help?”

The teeth finally gave way and Louis shook his head, hoping Niall couldn’t hear the way his breath stuttered and caught. Louis’ eyes bounced from Niall’s face to his navy boxer briefs, finally settling on his torso, his skin pale and uninked.

Niall helped Louis push the waistband down so it pooled around his knees. Then he fell onto Louis, making them crash onto the bed.

“Your knee, is it OK?” Louis bit Niall’s shoulder. “Do you need me to be on top?”

“No,” Niall growled. He fit both legs between Louis’ thighs and snaked his left arm under Louis. He hooked his hand over Louis’ shoulder, and pushed hard against him. “Do you want to be?”

“I just want this.” Louis tried to move his legs, to wrap them around Niall’s waist, but they were trapped.

Louis left a wet trail over Niall’s skin wherever he could reach, his hands slipping under Niall’s pants, grasping at the curve of his arse. His cock ached to move freely, but all he could do was move in tiny waves as Niall rutted against him.

Niall would visit. He would help. Louis could trust him, because Niall kept his word.

When Louis told Niall it would be his last date out with Eleanor, he begged Niall to keep it a secret. Ni, you can’t tell Haz…not yet. Niall had argued Harry would be excited, thrilled to have Louis all to himself again.

But Louis knew better. No matter how much he wished it wasn’t true, Harry was going to feel conflicted. Because of Niall.

When they were alone together, when Louis excitedly announced the breakup was inevitable, hurt flickered on Harry’s face, quickly replaced by a goofy grin. Louis’ gut twisted and he covered up both of their emotions with a hard hug and a soft kiss. I know, it’s over, it’s over, finally.

Then he gathered Harry up in his arms. Louis took his lover back that night, making it rough so Harry didn’t have to pretend it didn’t hurt.

Louis could see Niall’s fingers digging into his skin, and Niall was holding him so tightly Louis found it easier to breathe with him. When Niall exhaled, Louis filled his own lungs with Niall’s breath.

“Lou, Lou, I’m so close.”

Louis spread his legs as much as he could so Niall had space to move. The waistband of his jeans cut into his knees and layers of fabric bunched and twisted as Niall rubbed their dicks together. The fabric near the head of his cock didn’t move easily and Louis realised it was damp, his own body aching for release.

“Yes, yes,” Louis whispered. He dipped his head down, fitting it in the space between them, watching Niall’s chest tremble as his toes scrambled against the sheets, trying to get more leverage.

Niall’s breath was hot on Louis’ ear as he muttered a string of expletives. His body tightened above Louis and Louis pushed his hips up as much as he could while constrained. He needed to make Niall come, to feel the wetness on Niall’s pants.

“Ni-all.” Louis pulled his name out, each syllable pealing through the air.

“Oh,” Niall’s voice shook and he jerked against Louis hard and fast. “Oh, oh, Lou!”

Louis felt a heavy dampness between them and he grinned, the unmistakable scent of Niall hanging in the room.

“Me now, me,” Louis said, pushing against Niall’s shoulders. “On your back, give your knee a rest.”

Niall rolled onto his back and touched the damp fabric on his pants. “Jesus.”

Louis pushed his jeans down by his ankles and straddled Niall, his knees bent and squeezing Niall’s slim hips. He leaned forward, elbows braced against Niall’s upper chest. “You’re so fucking fit.”

Niall met Louis’ eyes. “You feel really good.”

Louis took a deep breath and drove himself against Niall, his hard dick rubbing against Niall’s cock, softer but still fat beneath him.

He felt like a teenager finding out how his body worked for the first time, using Niall as a brace, as a support while he eased into his own rhythm, working back and forth. Niall’s hands held the soft flesh of Louis’ hips and he sucked on one of Louis’ nipples, using his teeth.

Louis closed his eyes. He saw Niall the first time they’d met, his round face and his crooked smile. He saw Niall in their last performance, looking away from the group, his voice wavering as he sang, “Now my heart’s breaking and I don’t know what to do…”

“Thank you, thank you,” Louis whispered, his thighs shaking as he rocked against Niall. He tangled his hands in Niall’s hair as best he could, holding on as heat swelled in his pelvis. “Thank you, for keeping us together.”

“He’s yours.”

Louis came with a jerk. He collapsed on top of Niall, both their chests slick. “I know, I know,” he panted, his arse still moving up and down as his dick pulsed. He squeezed his eyes shut and nodded. “I know.”

Niall kissed Louis’ cheeks and jaw, his hand trailing over Louis’ back. “You’re so strong, Lou,” he whispered. “You’re going to win in the end.”

Louis whimpered against Niall, enjoying the way he felt and sounded. When his heartbeat finally slowed down, Louis kicked off his jeans. “I’m gonna wash up,” he said, touching Niall’s cheek before standing up at the side of the bed. “Then you?”

Niall nodded and Louis walked away, his feet heavy and his hip sockets loose. In the en suite, he ran some warm water and peeled his briefs off, dropping them on the floor. He held the flannel under the water and squeezed the excess out, then turned off the taps.

He wiped off his pubes and cleaned off his cock, his skin sensitive. He winced a bit at the rough loops in the terrycloth.

“You’re gorgeous.”

Louis looked up and saw Niall in the mirror. He was leaning against the door frame, stripped of his jeans, the front of his pants dark and wet.

“Thanks,” Louis said, his face hot. He glanced at himself and saw the pink rising on his cheeks. He turned the water on, rinsing the flannel. He held it up and pointed at Niall. “Want me to clean you up?”

Niall nodded. “Yeah, if that’s OK.” He bent over and shimmied out of his pants, the moles on his back showing. When he stood up, his cock hung soft and heavy. It glistened with moisture.

Louis checked the temperature of the flannel one more time and sat down on the toilet, the lid cold against his bottom. “Come here,” he said, spreading his knees so Niall could stand in front of him.

He cleaned Niall carefully, cupping his balls with the cloth before rubbing the fabric over Niall’s dick, gentle when he reached the head. Louis rinsed the flannel again and cleaned Niall’s stomach before clearing his throat. “I want to get some drinks from the bar. Can you…can you stay a little longer?”

Niall picked up his guitar pick where it had been left on the sink. He tapped it against the counter a few times. “Can’t leave until I know if we need to send out a search party for Zayn or Harry now, can I?”

Louis dropped the flannel on the tiles and laughed, loud and clear. “I’m gonna miss you, mate.”

Niall grinned and brushed Louis’ fringe to the side before stepping back. “I’m gonna miss you, too.”

Louis stood up and took the pick from Niall. “Can I keep this?”

“Yeah.” Niall shrugged. “Got plenty of them.”

“I know.” Louis stopped before he could finish his thought. But this one’s mine.

Louis stepped out into the main room and found his jeans. He pulled them on, zipping them up slowly so as not to pinch any skin or catch any fine hairs. Niall followed and pulled on his own clothes. Louis found his sandals and stepped into them. “Beer?” He glanced over his shoulder and froze.

Niall pulled the coverlet back and smoothed the sheets down, tucking them tightly into place. “Yeah, that’d be great,” he said. He fluffed the pillows and laid the coverlet down. He stepped back and put his hands on his hips. “Perfect.”

Breath rushed out of Louis’ lungs. The rules, of course. “Thanks…for doing that.”

Niall shrugged and opened the screen doors to the porch. “No problem. Hey, Lou?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I have a couple beers?”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

Niall sat on a lounge chair, stretching his legs out. “Oh, and Lou?”

“Mm?”

“I really am gonna miss you.” Niall twisted in the chair so he was facing Louis. “I know I have a brother. But you’re like the one I didn’t get.” He grinned but his eyes were sad. “You’re the one I trust.”

Louis twisted the door handle open and the oppressive nighttime heat smacked him like a wall. He leaned against the doorway and blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision while he peered into the darkness.

As the oldest, Louis had always been the responsible one, the one who hid his worries to keep everyone else safe. But he didn’t have to protect Niall.

Niall protected him.

Louis shook his legs out, preparing his feet to move. He was just getting beer. He’d come back. Niall wouldn’t leave.

“Ni.” Louis cleared his throat.

“Yeah?” Niall looked up at Louis. His hair was mussed and his cheeked flushed.

Louis smiled. “You’re the brother I never got, too.”


	4. Zayn

Zayn leaned against the door frame and sipped his coffee, watching.

Niall was standing on the beach, alone, taking some photos—no, video, probably—of the purple morning sky. He stood shirtless and barefoot in turquoise board shorts, his back broad as his torso rotated slowly. Zayn could hear he was talking, but he couldn’t make out the words.

The howler monkeys sang their morning wake-up psalms, and the jungle rustled awake. Where he stood, Niall’s footprints were the only human interruption to the rise and fall of sand rippled by the relentless, silent tides.

After a slow panoramic sweep, Niall dropped his arms to his side and bowed his head in what looked like a prayer.

Zayn closed his eyes and tried to etch the moment in his memory.

By the time he looked up again, Niall had turned around so his back was to the water. He raised his phone in the air and grinned softly. A few seconds later he brought his phone close to his face, swiping across the screen several times. Appearing satisfied, he picked up his shirt from the sand. He shook it out before putting it on and walking toward the resort.

“Morning!” Zayn called out after clearing his throat. “Got time to come here?”

“Zayn, hey!” Niall waved and then jogged toward him. “What’re you doing up so early?”

“C’mon in.” Zayn flattened his body so Niall could shuffle past. “Couldn’t sleep much.”

Niall eyed the table, which had plates of Panamanian corn cakes and cheese, eggs, and fruit. “Breakfast for two? Liam coming?”

“No, got it for us, unless you’ve already eaten?”

“No, just taking some pictures.” Niall stretched and yawned. “Hard to believe the trip’s almost up.”

“Sit, eat.” Zayn pulled out a chair for Niall and sat down in the other one. “How’d you find this place?”

“My secret.” Niall’s eyes danced.

“But on short notice?”

Niall rubbed his fingers together. “Money talks.”

Zayn nodded and topped off his coffee before cutting the deep-fried corn cake into pieces, being sure to match each chunk with a small piece of soft white cheese. “It’s what kept me around for so long.”

“It’s what’s keeping me around for golf.”

“They paying you that well?”

Niall shook his head. “I have other reasons, too.”

“Like?”

Niall narrowed his eyes. “Like nobody’s going to take me seriously right now. If I can do this, help get this management company off the ground, maybe I’ll be seen as more than a boybander.”

“Ahh.” Zayn looked at his plate. “You thinking of only doing golf or—”

Niall hit the table. “Yes, I’m thinking about doing some solo stuff, is that what you want to hear?”

“Babe, whoa—”

“So you can say we’re breaking up, just like the tabloids say. Happy?”

Zayn’s heart fell. “I don’t want—”

“I’m sorry.” Niall held his hands up in front of himself. “I wanted…I wanted to tell you first, because, well. You know why. I didn’t mean to snap, I just…” Niall rubbed his hands on his legs. “If I do some of my own stuff… What if I realise I like being alone? What if I don’t want to come back?”

“You can like both.” Zayn looked at his plate. “It doesn’t have to be one or the other.”

“Nobody else knows I’ve been working on my own stuff.”

“I won’t tell.”

“Thanks.” Niall sipped his coffee and glanced out the window. “How’s it going?”

Zayn pushed his corn cake into the yolk of the egg, making it spill onto the plate. “You mean with everyone here? Or my album? Or what?”

“All of it?” Niall shrugged. “I mean, you and Harry are both alive. That’s a start, I guess.”

“Mm.”

“And you and Liam disappeared for a long while yesterday.”

“Yeah, we’re fine.” Zayn pretended to rub the sleep from his eyes, brushing against his cheeks and feeling how warm the skin was.

“Fine?” Niall lifted one eyebrow. “Look more than fine, Malik.”

“I don’t kiss and tell.” Zayn winked. “No, it was… I think we both thought we’d worked everything out, but I think we both needed me to leave, you know? Time is useful. I don’t know what the hell we are now…”

“Been, what, eight months?”

“Ten.”

Niall’s fork hung in midair, coconut meat making the air smell sweet. “Has it been ten months?”

“Time flies.”

“Damn.” Niall chewed and swallowed hard. “Nearly a year since you left.”

“Album’s coming out in March.”

“You excited about that?”

“I’m not sure. They’re pushing the same shit I had before. Dating for promo, kind of painting me out to look like some brooding wanker.”

“You are a brooding wanker.”

Zayn punched Niall on the shoulder. “Only when forced to play second-string to Britain’s most eligible—and egotistical!—pinup boy.”

“At least Ireland’s most eligible bachelor is a prize!”

“True, man. True.” Zayn ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “They set the type on the album in this weird combo of capital and lowercase letters. It’s so dumb.”

Niall grinned and stacked the dishes in the centre of the table. “It’ll be…edgy…or something.”

“It makes me look illiterate.” Zayn leaned back in his chair. “Then I’ve gotta tour. Alone.”

Niall copied Zayn’s movement and leaned back. “How you gonna handle that?”

“I have no idea.”

“It’s going to be OK,” Niall said. “You’ll finally get the stage to yourself.”

Zayn looked out the window. The sun wasn’t even high in the sky, but the light was already glinting off of the Pacific Ocean. They had a ziplining trip later, just the five of them in a private tour group. Money talks and all that.

No camera crew would be following them, tripods and gear rattling as the men groaned about the heat. Nobody would be there to feed them bits of fake speech, deciding that their real conversations “wouldn’t interest the target market.” A handler wouldn’t break them into smaller groups, or send one to craft services to give them space.

Zayn’s stomach churned at the idea of the five of them being alone together. He made a mental note to tip their guide well.

Niall cleared his throat. “No need to play second string to anyone. And you know you’ve got the voice for it.”

“I thought I wanted the stage to myself. Now I’m not so sure.”

“You only signed for one album, right?”

“Yeah, but I love music. I want it to work. I just… I don’t know. I’m supposed to keep bringing you guys up. I want to be known for me, man.”

“Well, I mean…did you see any of our recent promo?”

Zayn nodded. “Guess I could just trash Harry.”

Niall groaned. “But you talked—”

“Relax,” Zayn said, touching Niall’s hand. “We did.”

“Can I ask… How’d it go?”

“Well, I started by telling Harry that I thought I was a better singer than he is, and I think if I was a white boy next door, I would’ve been a good frontman.”

“Zayn…”

“Then I told him I thought he was selfish for wanting to come out when it would make forty percent of the band undateable—”

“Do you really thi—”

“He told me that I didn’t have enough stage presence to go solo—”

“Oh shit, he’s lyi—”

“Then he told me I was a dick for breaking up with Liam, fucking you, and leaving.” Zayn stood up and walked across the room to the bed. He flopped onto it and put his head under a pillow. When he spoke again, his voice was muffled. “I told him Lou could do better than him which is why I kept trying to feel him up.”

“Oh God.” Niall walked across the room and pulled the pillow off of Zayn’s head. “You bastards were supposed to make up!”

“Did you really call me here to make up with Harry?”

Niall sat on the edge of the mattress and poked Zayn’s shoulder. “I invited you because you were a part of the band! We didn’t get a proper send off!”

Zayn rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He bit his lip and finally said, “After that, I told him the truth.”

“All of it?”

“Most of it.”

“What’d you lie about?”

“Don’t worry, everyone still thinks we were drunk. He said I took advantage of you, and I didn’t correct him. Yeah, yeah, we were drunk. Ha ha, just a drunk thing.” Zayn rolled his eyes and laced his fingers together, pushing his palms forward and making his knuckles pop. He glanced at Niall. “Is it really impossible to imagine we weren’t drunk? Why would it be such a shock?”

“I dunno why it’s so surprising we’d fit together. We’re like the outsiders of the band. Irish, Muslim.”

“The blond ones.”

Niall laughed and tugged at his roots. “Growing mine out, think I like it.”

Zayn waved a finger toward Niall’s hair. “Looks good, you should keep it.”

“Thanks, man.” Niall scooted backwards. “Move over, gimme space.”

Zayn moved over and Niall lay next to him. Niall rested his hands over his torso. “So what’d you tell the truth about then?”

“After telling him Louis was too good for him—which I still believe, that wasn’t a lie, I just want to say—I told him I didn’t really want to fuck Louis.”

“How’d that go?” Niall glanced at Zayn.

“He didn’t seem to believe me, even though I said I was just trying to make leaving easier for all of us.”

Niall chewed on his thumbnail. “Did you tell him I knew you were leaving early? Earlier than you planned, I mean?”

“No, nobody knows that, unless you told.” Zayn looked at Niall. His hair was dark, blond only at the tips. Zayn wondered idly if his hair would feel softer without the harsh bleach.

“I didn’t tell anyone. It’s still our secret.”

Zayn stroked the hairs on his. “Who do they think ‘Temporary Fix’ is about?”

“Some redhead I met in a club.” Niall bit his lip.

“Is it?” Zayn stared at the ceiling. “It wasn’t a taxi—”

“Well I couldn’t write ‘crawling all over you in the private plane’ now could I?”

Zayn glanced at Niall, whose profile was clear in the morning sunlight, exactly what it hadn’t been that night in Bangkok.

After partying with Liam and Niall, Zayn had brought some blonde back to the hotel, and the next thing he knew, someone was thumping on the door, waking him up.

Standing in just his black briefs, Zayn swung the door open to find Niall there. Zayn squinted against the harsh hallway light. “Is it already time to go? I’m not ready.”

“Let me in.” Niall shouldered his way into the room. “What the hell’re you doing, Zaynie?”

“Go away.”

“I’m staying,” Niall said, pushing Zayn further into the room. “You’ve been weird. I’m not leaving you alone.”

“I’m not weird, I hate the band and want to quit. Go away.”

“You’re already quitting, got less than a month.”

“Too long.” Zayn tumbled facedown onto the mattress. “Leave me alone.”

“Can’t. I’m staying.” Niall crossed the room and pulled back the drapes, finding a small window, just big enough to let air in. He cupped his hands around his eyes and pressed his face to the glass. “Nobody can see us up here.”

“Were you expecting any different?” Zayn pushed himself up on his hands. “Hey, where’s that girl?”

“Found her in the hallway. She said you fell asleep.” Niall took off his socks and rolled them into a little ball. “Sent her back to her hostel.”

“Hostel?”

“You pulled a backpacker.” Niall took off his trousers and pulled his t-shirt over his head.

“What are you doing?” Zayn rubbed his face. “Put your shit on and get out.”

Niall opened the window and tossed his socks out, laughing. “Oh man, I did like those socks.”

“What are you doing!” Zayn sat up in the bed.

Niall pushed his trousers and shirt through the window, then closed it. He stood in only his boxers, hands on his hips. “See now I’m naked, can’t go any place.”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “As if we haven’t run through the halls naked before. You still have pants on.”

Niall dropped his boxers to the floor. “OK, _now_ I’m naked. And I’m staying.” Niall bent over, shaking his pale white arse at Zayn. When he stood back up, he had his boxers in his hand. He whipped them above his head and shook his hips, making his cock bob up and down. “Do I need to throw these out the window, too?”

“Whatever.” Zayn fell back onto the bed and pulled the sheet over his head. “Just let me sleep, my head hurts…”

“Gonna brush my teeth first.”

“You brought a toothbrush?”

“Nah.”

Zayn yawned and rolled over, turning off the bedside lamp. Oh fuck, Niall was going to—

“Don’t use my toothbrush!”

“Too late!” Niall mumbled. He spat and Zayn heard bottled water glugging in a cup.

“I can’t even have my own fucking toothbrush. God! I hate this fucking band!”

“This fucking band made you rich.”

Niall’s sharp voice made Zayn look at him. He was backlit, and all the fine hairs over his arms and thighs glowed in the light. Niall scratched his hip mindlessly, rubbing over the soft, jagged lines that marked a growth spurt.

Niall pointed at Zayn. “This fucking band agreed to let you out of your contract, in exchange for a longer non-compete for all of us. All four of us— _Harry included_ —have signed off on your freedom.” Niall flipped off the light and crawled onto the bed, yanking the covers back hard before he settled in next to Zayn. “This fucking band made you famous, you dick.”

Zayn’s stomach knotted itself tightly. He curled inward, trying to become smaller, invisible. Niall’s heavy breathing made the mattress next to him rise and fall, and Zayn’s spine sagged and lifted with it.

“Are you going to put your boxers back on?” Zayn finally managed.

“No. My balls need to breathe.” Niall rolled over so they were back to back.

Zayn squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the red numbers on the clock, blocking out the small blue light on the TV. He slid his palms between his thighs and tucked his head against his chest, forcing his body to still so he could push the anger aside. Or maybe wallow in it. He hadn’t decided yet.

One more concert. He could do one more concert, and then one more after that. And another. Until the end. The panic that rose in his chest every time they touched down in a new city, the bile that filled his mouth before they went on stage, burning as he choked and swallowed it down—

“I don’t think I can last until April.”

“What?”

Fuck. He was awake.

Niall coughed gently. “What?”

The sour taste rose and Zayn lurched out of the bed, keeping one hand on the edge of the mattress so he could feel the corners, so he wouldn’t trip on his way to the en suite. He found the sink, and retched, the liquor stinging but coming up easily.

Zayn planted his hands on the counter and panted, his stomach roiling. A hand touched the curve of his back, smoothing circles into it, and the light came on. Zayn lifted his head and saw Niall standing next to him.

Niall turned a cup over and opened the bottled water. The place where his hand had been felt cold. Niall held the cup in front of Zayn. “Drink.”

“My stomach—”

“Then swish and spit.”

Zayn nodded, his eyes watering at the taste on his tongue. He swirled the water around his mouth and spat, suddenly embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I drank too much.”

“No you didn’t.” Niall leaned against the counter and folded his arms across his chest. He was completely as ease, naked in a bathroom. It would be comical if Zayn didn’t feel dizzy.

Zayn shook his head, feeling safe with Niall. “I—I—”

“You’re not sick because you drank too much.” Niall’s voice was low and calm. “You need to quit, don’t you?”

Their eyes met and Zayn broke, his elbows dropping to the counter, his shoulders collapsing. “I am.”

“No, I mean…this next show.”

Zayn shook his head, looked at his feet and the bathroom tiles. “It’s only a few weeks—”

“You can’t do this. We can’t do this.” Niall took a deep breath. “It’s ruining you, and it’s ruining us.”

“I already have an out—”

“No, forget it. We get one plane tomorrow, I’ll make Liam share with Lou and Harry. Need to get you away from Harry anyhow, you are one Louis grope away from getting your throat slit. We’ll figure it out in the morning.” Niall touched Zayn’s lower back. “C’mon. Bedtime. Let’s sleep.”

“Ni, I can’t—”

“One concert. That’s all. Bed, let’s go.”

Zayn stood up slowly, his back creaking. Sleep, he just wanted sleep. For a week, for a month. “But your parts—”

“We already know who’s taking what, we’ll have a few days—don’t argue with me.” Niall put an arm around Zayn’s shoulders and pushed him toward the bed.

Zayn stumbled toward the bed, nodding numbly. “One,” he muttered.

Niall put another cup of water on the nightstand next to Zayn and crawled into bed. He stretched onto his back, one arm above his head, one arm on his chest. “It’s just temporary. One more night. You can make it.”

Zayn looked at Niall, seeing only his profile in the dim light. “Ni, I’m…”

“It’s for the best.” Niall sighed and took a shaky breath. When he spoke, his voice was weak. “I’m gonna miss you. A lot.”

“I…” Zayn nodded and gulped air, trying to catch his breath.

“Shh, sleep.” Niall shifted and touched Zayn’s elbow. His hand dragged across the inside of Zayn’s forearm, and he tangled their fingers together. Zayn inhaled sharply and Niall squeezed his hand. “We’ll fix it. Don’t talk, just sleep.”

“Thanks.” Zayn felt the heat of Niall’s hand in his. “Thanks.”

“Shh, Zaynie. Sleep.”

The next morning, wearing some grey sweats and an old t-shirt Zayn found in his gym bag, Niall had told Liam to fly with Harry and Louis. Zayn hadn’t asked how easy it had been to convince Liam to agree; their breakup was still relatively fresh. On the plane ride, Niall had spelled out exactly how Zayn was going to leave.

Zayn heard the steady sound of waves pounding against the shore. He rolled over on the bed and nuzzled against Niall’s cheek, hooking his chin into the dip of his collarbone. Niall’s nose was burnt and Zayn wondered if it stung. “How did you come up with that plan?”

“It came to me while you were sleeping. I thought over every bit of it.”

“It was just so…smart.”

“I knew we had all the proof we needed.” Niall shrugged. “They knew who started us on the drugs. Saying you needed a break for rehab, well.”

Niall had been the one to tell their management why Zayn needed to go. Nobody dared argue. Everyone knew they were recording albums in the middle of the night on no sleep. They had footage showing who gave them uppers. They’d only leaked part of the weed video. All five of them had copies of the entire recording saved in multiple places. It would only take one call for the whole thing to unravel, for people to lose their jobs.

It was five against everyone else.

And an easy out, easier than Zayn could have imagined.

Zayn found Niall’s hand and pressed his palm against it, fingers outstretched, comparing their sizes before he held it. “Your plan worked.” He’d done the same thing on the plane, when he’d finally understood. He’d taken Niall’s hand. Thank you, I can do this, thank you for not telling everyone else.

Niall glanced sideways at Zayn. “You guys all wonder why I get so worried. It’s because I pay attention to the details.”

“On the plane…” Zayn pouted and the inside of his lower lip caught on the stiff hairs on Niall’s jaw. He dragged his lip against Niall’s skin, relishing the thorny sensation. “I tried to pay attention to you, too.”

Niall shivered and he flushed. “I remember.”

Zayn moved closer to Niall and rubbed his crotch against Niall’s side. “I still can’t believe we…” Zayn waited but Niall didn’t speak. Zayn cleared his throat. “You climbed on me, first.”

“I told you to quit the band, I knew I was going to miss you…” Niall reached down and palmed Zayn’s cock over his shorts. “Figured I had nothing to lose.”

Zayn slid a hand under Niall’s shirt, his hand on Niall’s stomach. His skin was soft and smooth, with sparse hairs trailing above his board shorts. “I—I needed it.”

“I did, too.” Niall turned his head away. “I…wanted to say goodbye.”

Zayn groaned, remembering how Niall had climbed over him, straddling him over the cream-coloured leather seat of the plane. How Niall had kissed him, complaining he tasted like nicotine and smoke.

Zayn slipped his hand around Niall’s waist. “Come here, face me.”

Niall rolled to his side and kissed Zayn. It was simple, slow. His fingers curled over the edge of Zayn’s waistband, brushing against the tawny skin. “You aren’t wearing pants.”

Zayn slid his palm under Niall’s shorts, his manicured nails digging into the meat of Niall’s arse. “Neither are you.”

They kissed, Zayn nipping at Niall’s upper lip. “You know—” Niall’s tongue slid into Zayn’s mouth, and Zayn’s head buzzed.

“What?”

“Um—your back.” Zayn squeezed Niall’s bum and then moved his hand up, scratching Niall’s shoulders lightly. “Your back is beautiful.”

“You can’t even see my back.”

“No, I mean…then.” Zayn tucked his head against Niall’s neck, felt the heat make his skin prickle.

“Then?” Niall’s voice lifted and he finally wrapped his hand around Zayn’s dick.

Zayn’s shoulders loosened and he laughed. He was being teased, in only the way Niall could tease him. Zayn pulled Niall into another kiss and rocked his hips up into Niall’s hand.

“Yes,” he whispered. “Then. When you bent over the seat on the plane.”

“Oh? What about my back?”

Zayn bit his lip and groaned. He’d wanked to the memory so many times, he could conjure it up in moments. Niall’s arms wrapped around the headrest, sunlight streaming through the windows. The heat of him around Zayn, the milky flesh of Niall’s hips bruising under his fingers, the taste of him in Zayn’s mouth.

“The muscles…” Zayn slid the flat of his palm over Niall’s shoulder blade. “Here, they were rippling.”

“Was that your favourite part?” Niall twisted his hand over the head of Zayn’s cock, making him squirm.

Zayn nodded. “What about you?”

Niall wriggled down the bed and undid the fly of Zayn’s shorts. He pulled them off, making Zayn’s cock spring up straight. Niall bit Zayn’s hip, the sharp point where the bone was. “My favourite part…” Niall pushed Zayn over onto his stomach. “Get comfortable.”

Zayn rested his head on his arms and waited. There was a rustling noise and some laughing and then Niall’s clothes were on the bed, and he was straddling Zayn’s waist, his lips brushing against his ear.

“When you rimmed me.” Niall rocked his pelvis, the silky skin of his dick slipping over Zayn’s lower back.

“Fuck, Niall…”

“Why do you think I was grabbing the headrest? Didn’t know it would feel that good.” Niall kissed the back of Zayn’s neck, licking him and making goosebumps rise up.

“You didn’t think I’d be good?” Zayn tried to laugh, even though he felt embarrassed.

Niall pulled Zayn’s shirt up around his armpits. Niall slid down his body, his cock dragging against the back of his thigh. He kneed his way between Zayn’s legs, spreading them, and kissed his back. “No, that was my first time.”

Zayn twisted to look at Niall, embarrassment quickly replaced with confusion. “What?”

Niall met Zayn’s gaze and shrugged one shoulder. “Yeah.” He lifted an eyebrow and kissed the crest of Zayn’s bum. “Never done it, either.”

“Oh, fuck.” Zayn exhaled hard as Niall lapped at his skin, moving closer to the cleft of him. “Why didn’t…why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to stop.”

Zayn dropped his head to the pillow. Zayn didn’t have the words to thank him then, he could only show him. He was so impatient to get a piece of Niall to himself. “I would’ve gone slower…”

Niall chuckled. “I have no complaints.” He pressed his nose against Zayn and inhaled deeply. “Can I…”

Zayn’s mind raced. He’d showered before bed. They had enough time. Niall might not like it. Niall might really like it. Damn, Zayn liked it. He was Niall’s first; Zayn could be his first again…

He spoke slowly, trying to sound casual. “Do you want to? You don’t have—”

“I want to, but we can do something else.” Niall’s voice hurried over itself. “Or nothing at all—”

“I don’t want to stop!” Zayn laughed. “Just, um. Hold on.” Zayn grabbed the other pillow and punched it in half, his hands unsteady. He hesitated, then shoved the pillow under his pelvis, making his hips higher. “This should…help.”

He cringed; his voice was too loud in the small room.

Niall’s voice was steady and quiet. “Tell me if I do something wrong, OK?”

Zayn’s stomach fluttered and he licked his lips. “You can’t really do wrong at this, Ni.”

Thumbs pressed into Zayn’s flesh, and he felt himself being spread open. He held his breath and closed his eyes, tension spreading across his forehead. He felt Niall’s tongue touch him, light—almost hesitant—and then he felt a soft pressure.

Zayn spoke quietly. “If you don’t… You can stop if you don’t like it.”

Niall’s head shook between Zayn’s cheeks, and Zayn giggled, relieved. He spread his arms across the bed, and rotated his ankles outward, knowing that always helped keep him relaxed.

“Tell me if the angle hurts your neck, or if you can’t breathe.”

In response, Niall squeezed Zayn’s arse cheek and licked him in long, flat strokes that made Zayn’s heart thump heavily. Niall exhaled and Zayn shuddered under his hot, wet breath.

Zayn dug his knees into the bed, popping his bottom up just a little higher. “Ni, oh Ni.”

“I missed you, Zaynie.” Niall lifted Zayn from the bed a bit and licked the wrinkled skin of his balls.

Zayn gasped and groaned and pushed back, his hips rolling on their own. His dick was full and he wanted to touch it, but he forced himself to wait.

To give Niall all the time he needed.

Niall pressed against Zayn’s rim again, moving in shorter, faster strokes. Zayn struggled to stay loose under Niall’s touch, his spine becoming a conduit, electricity zipping through him.

Zayn exhaled in strong, short huffs, stilling himself, afraid of startling Niall. When Niall started drawing lazy circles and loops over him, Zayn’s thighs trembled.

“So good.” Zayn rubbed his forehead against his forearms and he groaned.

Blood whooshed in Zayn’s ears. His body started rocking. _Dhak-dhak._ He slid forward. _Dhak-dhak,_ a backward glide. The pounding in his head kept the tempo for him; his pulse punctuated his movements.

Niall kneaded Zayn’s arse and slipped his fingers down into the moisture. He spread Zayn further apart, exposing him. Then he pushed his tongue against him firmly, tiny movements that made Zayn gasp.

Zayn let himself go for the only one he never felt like he needed to work to impress.

He pressed his cheek against the pillow and grabbed for the edges of the bed, clinging, trying to steady himself as his heart quickened in a staccato beat. _Dhak-dhak-dhak-dhak._ “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“I—you taste so good. Can I—” Niall put a hand to the small of Zayn’s back, making him grind into the pillow. “Can I come on your back? I want to see the muscles—”

“Dammit, yes.” Zayn scrambled to remove his t-shirt, baring himself for Niall.

He craned his neck and saw Niall kneel behind him, his hand working quickly over his dick. His head lolled loosely from side to side. The tip of his tongue stuck out between his teeth, and his eyes were squeezed shut in concentration.

“Zayn, damn, Zayn.”

“I’m here.” Zayn brushed his ankle against Niall’s leg, trying to find a point of contact. “I’m here.”

“You are.” Niall nodded and then his jaw dropped open and his body snapped forward, his hand landing hard on Zayn’s shoulder. He came over Zayn’s back in streaks and splatters, his head dropped, breath tickling Zayn’s skin. “God.” Niall panted as Zayn rubbed his body against the sheets, searching for pressure.

Niall pushed himself up and sat back on his heels. He took several breaths and said, “On your knees, sit up.”

Swaying a bit, Zayn sat up. Before he could turn around, Niall’s hand slid over his back, through the dampness. Then Niall’s chest was pressed against him, and his wet hand was around Zayn’s dick.

Niall kissed the back of Zayn’s neck and wrapped his other arm around his chest. Zayn leaned back, resting his head on Niall’s shoulder, letting Niall hold up his weight.

His hand roamed over Zayn’s chest, while Niall’s lips travelled over the side of his throat. His other hand worked in a slow, easy rhythm over Zayn’s cock.

Too slow.

“Faster, please,” Zayn whined. A brief squeeze and a sharp tug. A gasp and a nod. “Like that, yes, I—” His hips bucked up in time.

The roar in Zayn’s head was replaced with the sound of Niall chanting his name, bits of speech floating up: _missed you_ and _you belong here_.

Niall’s breath on Zayn’s cheek was suddenly very hot and the sound of flesh on flesh was loud and Zayn felt dizzy. Then he was jerking and pulsing against Niall in release. “Fuck, yes, yes.”

Niall stroked through Zayn’s orgasm, and kept his hand loosely around him as his heartbeat slowed, as his breathing regulated itself. When he finally slipped entirely out of Niall’s grasp, Niall wrapped his arms around Zayn’s waist. “I liked that.”

Zayn rested his hands on top of Niall’s. “Understatement.” Niall laughed behind Zayn and leaned over, making them both fall to the bed. He pulled the sheet over them.

Niall’s nose brushed against the hairs at the back of Zayn’s neck, and he settled into the warmth of Niall’s body. After several quiet minutes passed, he cleared his throat. “We have to get ready for the zipline tour soon.”

“Not yet though.” Niall brushed his fingers over Zayn’s soft cock. “I’m not going to shower before we go.”

A heat rose in Zayn’s chest. “Me neither.”

“I’m going to take one of your t-shirts, too,” Niall said, his voice thick and sleepy. “I want to smell like you.”

“Did… I never got my t-shirt back from that day, did I?”

“No, you’re not going to either.”

Zayn laughed softly. “Why not?”

Niall yawned. “‘You waking up in my t-shirt?’”

“Yeah?” Zayn’s brow furrowed. “The song?”

“I sleep in it.” Niall kissed Zayn’s shoulder. “It’s mine now.”


	5. Niall

Niall leaned back in his chair and swirled the beer around in his glass. One good swig left.

Liam was beatboxing to old TV theme songs Louis was singing, while Harry and Zayn were discussing Zayn’s release schedule for his singles. Niall’s leg jiggled and he laced his fingers together and apart.

This was the perfect end to their holiday. Just the five of them alone, no schedules to meet. Hell, they could miss their flights the next afternoon. They had nowhere to be, really.

You’re free, Niall thought. He looked up at the sky, and found the North Star. He’d be home soon enough, the stars fixed in their rightful places. Free.

Freedom felt like a dry mouth and a heavy stomach.

They needed a break, they deserved it. They’d been in each other’s pockets for five years.

But Niall liked having his pockets full.

Niall sat up slowly, his head swimming with alcohol. He took his last swig of beer and glanced at the time on his phone. He cringed and looked at the staff. They were whispering to each other, stifling yawns.

“Excuse me,” Niall said out of habit. He approached the servers, and after some apologies and the promise they would clean up after themselves, the staff headed off to bed, leaving behind a stocked bar.

Niall picked through the bottles until he found a white dessert wine. Behind him his mates were rowdy, teasing each other, making bets, and laughing. Their voices carried in the quiet night, and Niall was about to remind them of that, but he remembered the sea didn’t share secrets.

Niall’s hands slipped as he tried to open the bottle. He wiped his palms over his t-shirt and twisted the corkscrew again. This time the cork slid out easily, and he tossed it on the counter where it bounced once and then rolled out of reach. He turned to walk away, frowned, and snatched up the cork, pushing it deep into his pocket.

At the table, Niall poured each man a glass before clearing his throat. “Boys, a toast.”

“Niall, c’mon,” Louis said, his voice reedy. “A toast?”

“Shh,” Harry said. “Let the man make a toa—”

“A toast! What is this, some fucking funeral?” Liam added.

“You’re a dick.” Zayn rolled his eyes.

“Yes, wankers, a toast! Join in if you know it.” The men grumbled but held up their glasses and Niall began. “Here’s to lying, cheating, stealing, and drinking…” Zayn grinned and nodded. Of course they knew this one. Niall tipped his head toward Zayn. “If you’re going to lie…

“Lie for a friend,” Zayn said with a tiny tilt of his glass.

Niall looked at Liam. “If you’re going to cheat—”

“Cheat death!” Liam said. Then he shrugged and laughed. “Why’d I get death?”

Niall flipped him the bird and spoke louder. “If you’re going to steal…” He waved a finger between Louis and Harry while Liam and Zayn made cooing noises in the background. “I’m talking to you,” he said.

“Yes, sir!” Louis snapped to attention and poked Harry. “Can you start over?”

“If you’re going to steal—”

“Steal a heart.” Louis and Harry both looked at Niall while they spoke, Louis holding Niall’s gaze a beat too long.

Niall raised his free hand in the air. “And if you’re going to drink—”

“Drink with me!” the group cried out, clinking glasses with each other before tasting the rich wine.

A steady silence fell over the group as they drank and made bits of eye contact with each other.

Liam finally broke the spell. “Thanks for inviting us here.” He looked at Zayn and then dropped his gaze to the table. “We really needed this.”

The others nodded and Niall swallowed hard. He looked at his glass and shrugged. “We always talked about having a lads’ holiday.”

“Yeah, but you’re the only one organised enough to actually make us do it,” Louis said. “How many times were you the one to make sure I got on a plane?” He smacked Harry on the hip and stage whispered, “Right?”

Zayn scooted his chair back a bit and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands hanging loosely between his legs. “I’m glad you invited me here. It… I feel like I got to…” His eyes flickered from Louis to Harry and then slid to Liam. “Settle stuff.”

Harry tapped the metal bottle cap from someone’s beer on the table, a slow rhythm as his head bobbed. He finally said, “This kind of reminds me of being put together.” He looked at each of the men in turn and then looked at the cap again. “You know, that…naïve hope we had over an uncertain future.”

Air whooshed out of Niall’s lungs and he forced himself to inhale carefully through his teeth, hiding the sound. He slipped his hands under his thighs in an effort to keep his fingers out of his mouth.

“‘Naïve hope.’ That’s a good one,” Zayn said.

“So’s ‘uncertain future.’” Liam drained his glass. “Anyone else want more wine?”

Niall’s heart pounded and he tried breathe. He shook his head no.

Liam started collecting glasses and Zayn said he’d help and there was a bustle of activity as the rest of them picked up dishes and thick cotton napkins. Someone dropped silverware in the sink with a loud clatter.

Liam touched Zayn’s back as he walked past him holding up a new bottle of wine. Harry swatted at Louis with a towel when he wouldn’t get out of the way.

Niall’s vision blurred. “I…I need to sleep,” he said. His voice came out loud and demanding and he flinched. “Shit, I—can I go to bed?”

“Yeah.” Zayn’s brow wrinkled. “Do you want one of us to walk you back?”

“No, no.” Niall waved his hand and stood up. “I’m just really tired all of a sudden.” He gave his bandmates—former bandmates? Friends? What were they now?—a wan smile. “See you in the morning?”

Liam bit his lip and nodded. “Yeah, but text us if you need something, OK?”

“I will.” Niall walked away, the tiles swimming in front of him, the buzz of the darkness surrounding him.

Once he was out of sight, he ran. He ran away from the murmuring voices, the thin rubber of his shoes slapping against the trail and his throat burning. He ran past the torches that lit the dark path and past the ocean, where the moon’s light shimmered on the water. He ran to be alone.

Niall reached his cottage and threw the door open, making it shake in its frame. He caught the edge of the door and closed it, pressing his back against it and listening, his chest heaving. He bit his thumbnail, tearing at the corner of it.

Silence.

A stinging sensation shot through his arm and he looked at his hand. His thumb was bleeding.

Fuck.

Niall took off his shoes and threw them hard across the room. One hit the wall and bounced onto the floor. The other hit the ceiling and landed on the table.

Normally he’d be impressed. But all he heard was his mother’s voice scolding him about putting filthy shoes on a clean table.

Niall squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “You’re such a fucking baby,” he whispered. He pushed his palms against the door, launching himself further into the room. He stumbled into the bathroom and turned the taps on, splashing cool water on his face.

In the mirror, his eyes were bloodshot. His skin was splotchy and he just really needed water. Niall poured himself a cup and looked around.

A warm shower would help.

Niall started the water in the tub, and stripped off his clothes. He examined himself in the mirror, turning to look at his back. When he saw a fresh patch of pink skin, he lowered the water temperature. He dug the tube of aloe gel Harry had given him out of his bag and set it on the vanity.

He leaned forward and touched the bridge of his nose. His freckles were darker.

Niall stepped into the shower, letting the water run over him. He lathered up his hair and reached for the soap. His stomach turned at the smell of it. Niall dropped the bar and leaned against the cold tile until his stomach quit lurching.

The shampoo would be fine. He squeezed more of it onto the palm of his hand and rubbed it over his torso, small bubbles clinging to the curls of hair on his chest. Niall worked his way down his body, his skin slick.

He rinsed off and brushed his hand over his dick. Maybe a wank would help him feel better. Niall stroked himself a few times, but finally gave up. He wasn’t a teenager who had to hide in the shower.

He could do it between the sheets instead.

Niall turned off the water and dried off. Leaving the towel on the floor, he walked to the corner of the room, where his luggage had exploded. He found a clean pair of boxer shorts and put them on.

His eye caught on the t-shirt Zayn had given him after the zipline tour. Niall stroked the sleeve, worn and thin. He held the shirt up to his nose and inhaled deeply. It smelled like Zayn’s deodorant. The day had been hot, and Zayn had kept tugging at the neck of his shirt, the sweat making it cling to him.

Niall shook the shirt out so he could find the ribbed trim on the crew neck. He stretched the fabric between his hands and ran it over his mouth. It was dry and he could feel the stitching on his lower lip.

The shirt was a mouse and Niall was a cat. He drew the fabric over his skin slowly, then zipped it in the other direction. He did it again, hearing the soft whir of the cloth. The friction made him warm, and he clamped his lips around the shirt. The cotton squeaked on his teeth as he pulled it into his mouth.

He sucked hard, wetting the neckline. The taste of salt bloomed on Niall’s tongue, but it dissipated, and under it was the soft flavor of yeast, like a warm, buttered dinner roll.

_Rat-tat-tat_.

Niall jumped and spat out the shirt. He crumpled it up into a ball, his heart racing.

“Niall?”

“Just—just a minute!” Niall dropped to his knees and shoved Zayn’s shirt deep into his luggage. He took a slow breath and stood up quickly. When his eyes didn’t sting or water, he walked toward the bathroom, calling out, “Come in!”

Liam pushed the door open. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Niall pointed. “Follow me? Gotta get ready for bed.”

In the bathroom, Liam sat on the toilet lid while Niall brushed his teeth. “Wanted to see if you’re OK.”

Niall swished and spat. “Yeah, I’m great. This has been a fun holiday.”

“You got to practice a lot of Spanish.”

“Yep.” Niall wrapped a length of floss around his fingers, making the tips of them turn purple. “ _Hilo dental_. Dental floss.”

“I hate flossing.”

Niall finished the top row of teeth. “I paid too much for those braces.” He flossed his bottom teeth while Liam watched him. He shook the floss loose from his fingers over the rubbish bin, rinsed his mouth, then bared his teeth and looked at the mirror. “They’re almost too straight.”

Liam rolled his eyes. “They’re perfectly fine.”

Niall rearranged his toiletries on the vanity. “Did you have fun?”

“I did,” Liam said. Niall turned and looked over his shoulder in the mirror. “I need—I got pissed when you said Zayn was coming, and I’m—”

“I’m glad he came, too.” Niall picked up the aloe gel and turned it over in his hands.

“Can I help?” Liam held out a hand and stood up.

“I can get it.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t help. C’mon.” Liam wiggled his fingers and Niall gave him the tube. “Tell me if it hurts.”

Niall’s chin fell to his chest and Liam applied the cold gel to his back and shoulders. “Doesn’t hurt.”

Liam’s hand smoothed over him. “You left kind of quickly. Tonight.”

“I’m just tired.”

“Mm.”

Niall glanced at Liam’s reflection in the mirror. His profile was hard. Niall remembered when they were first put together, and he was nervous to sing in front of Liam, who had more stage experience than all of them, and who took it so seriously.

“Do you want someone to stay with you tonight?” Liam rubbed the gel into Niall’s lower back. His palm moved in soft circles.

“Oh no, I don’t need—”

“Turn around.”

Niall did as he was told. Liam studied his body and put a dab of gel on the top of his chest and shoulders. “Little burn here.”

His voice reminded Niall of the way birch leaves rustled in the wind. “Thanks for getting my back.”

Liam leaned forward and rubbed his finger over the ridge of Niall’s collarbone. “Skin’s peeling.”

“Is it?” Niall drew his head back, trying to see.

Liam didn’t look at Niall. He hovered a finger over him, pointing. “Right here.”

“Right there?”

Niall felt a light tug and heard the gentle rasp of skin being removed. Liam rubbed his fingers together and the papery, translucent skin fluttered to the floor.

“There.” Liam kissed his shoulder dryly.

Niall turned to look. “Is it all gone?”

“No.” Liam used his thumb to roll off another strip of skin. He kissed that spot, and then the side of Niall’s neck. “You need company?”

When Niall didn’t answer, Liam pulled his thumb across Niall’s cheek, making his lips part, showing his teeth. Niall looked at Liam’s eyes, noticed how the brown became flecked with grey-green around the outside edge. He moved closer and they kissed.

Liam tasted like moscato. His lips were chapped. Niall looked at the small split in the middle of his mouth. If he pulled at that dry skin, Liam would bleed. They needed some of Louis’ vitamin E oil.

Liam leaned in and put his hands on the counter, boxing Niall in. They kissed again and Niall thought of how it started, of how he used Liam to see if he liked boys.

Niall had come to know that he could sleep with almost any woman—for a night, for a few months—and enjoy it. The softness and wetness of them, the fullness of their breasts, the lip gloss most of them wore, marking him with shiny kisses. And emotionally? Girls were cake; they were easy to date, uncomplicated.

Men? He could appreciate their planes and angles, the way the shadows darted over their bodies, and the snap of their hips. But when it came to dating them? It was trying to dance on a boat in a storm; there was no certainty. So he shied away from them, keeping to the only men he knew he could trust.

Liam pushed his thigh against Niall’s crotch and Niall groaned. “Liam…”

“Niall!” A door slammed, and Niall’s hands flew up to Liam’s chest, shoving him away.

“Shit!” Niall turned around and leaned against the vanity, trying to look busy, fumbling to grab some cotton swabs. His ears could be clearer, probably.

Harry appeared in the doorway. “Hey! You two alright? The rest of us are heading to bed.”

Liam scratched his jaw. “Yeah, we’re fine.”

“You OK?” Harry looked at Niall, then Liam. “You look…feverish.”

“Sunburn,” Niall said. “You know how I am. Never enough sun cream.”

Harry stepped forward and touched Niall’s cheek. He tilted his head and looked at him. “You sure that’s all?”

“I—I’m sad this is the end,” Niall said lamely. “Of the trip, I mean.”

Harry pinched Niall’s earlobe and rolled it between his fingers. “You sure you mean the trip?”

It was an unfair move. Niall nodded. “Yeah, I know we’re fine—the band.” He jerked his head away from Harry and moved over a step. “I know the band’s fine.”

Niall stared at the sink, but in the mirror’s reflection, he could see Liam and Harry shoot each other looks. Harry stepped back. “I didn’t mean to bug you.”

“No—no, it’s not you, I’m just tired.”

“I don’t want to leave if you’re upset,” Harry said. He jutted a thumb over his shoulder. “But I can…”

Niall’s head whipped up. Harry’s brows were knotted together and his gaze moved toward the door. Niall reached for him, pawing at his hip. “Don’t—don’t go.”

Harry stepped into Niall’s space and Niall wrapped his hand around his waist. “And you,” Niall looked at Liam in the mirror, “come here?”

Liam stepped forward and draped an arm across Niall’s back, pulling him into a half hug. “We can stay as long as you want.” Liam took Niall’s hand and pulled it around his waist, holding his hand over Niall’s.

Niall couldn’t feel his legs, and his mouth was dry. He swallowed and kissed Harry’s shoulder over his t-shirt. Harry nudged Niall’s cheek with his nose, making him laugh. When he did, Harry caught him full on the mouth and kissed him.

Fuck. Liam, he would taste like Liam. Who was watching.

Niall’s fingers clung to the muscled dip in Liam’s waist. Liam’s hand squeezed his shoulder. Niall broke the kiss and faced him. “Can you both—”

Liam interrupted him with a deep kiss. Niall leaned into him and Harry’s body followed. Liam stroked Niall’s neck with the back of his hand, and another hand—Harry’s, it had to be—touched his stomach. Liam’s tongue ran over Niall’s teeth, while Harry peppered Niall’s shoulder with nibbles.

Niall realised they didn’t care if he tasted like someone else.

“Do you want…anyone else here?” Harry asked, breathing hot over Niall.

“Mm?”

“The others?”

Oh, Christ. Niall looked down, his eyes following the tattoos on Liam’s forearm. His skin tingled where it was burnt and buzzed where it wasn’t. He licked his lips and spoke, his voice shaky. “Do you think they’d want… Would they…”

Liam chuckled and Harry patted Niall’s back. “I don’t…think you need to worry about that,” Harry said.

“I can text them.” Liam let go of Niall and dug in his pocket.

“Let’s get out of this bathroom,” Harry said, pushing on Niall’s back. Liam followed them, eyes on his phone.

Standing near the bed, Harry whispered, “We don’t like seeing you sad.” He pulled Niall into a tight hug.

“I’m worried.”

Harry stroked the back of Niall’s head and neck. “I know you are. But do you think you can relax a little?”

_Knock, knock!_

Niall whirled around to see Louis and Zayn crowded in the doorway, stumbling and tripping over each other to get into the room.

Louis practically crawled over Zayn before he stood in the middle of the room, gasping for air. “So. Hi, Niall.”

Zayn was stooped over, hands on his knees. “Yeah, hi.”

“Why’re you breathing so hard?” Niall said. “Did you race each other or something?”

“Yeah,” Zayn said, gasping for air, “But he’s a fucking cheat—”

Louis smacked Zayn’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “Um, it’s…allergies!”

“Allergies?” Zayn looked at him.

Louis coughed. “Oh, yeah, this jungle air, y’know.”

Zayn stood up and folded his arms across his chest. “Smooth, man.” He looked at Harry. “What the hell do you see in him?”

Louis ignored Zayn and surveyed the room. “OK, well, then. We’ll be right back.” He gave Zayn a fistbump. “Let’s do it.”

Niall stood dumbly, until Liam tugged on the back of his pants, making Niall sit on the bed between him and Harry. Liam moved his fingers back and forth over Niall’s thigh.

Zayn reappeared with a pile of blankets and pillows that Niall recognised as having come from his bed. He dumped them on the floor and flashed Niall a grin. “Give us a few minutes.” He moved the two chairs and shoved the table against the wall. “Why’s your shoe here?”

He opened the sliding glass doors that led to the porch and carried the two chairs outside. Several large moths flew into the room. They bumped against the wall near the light in an erratic dance.

Harry leaned against Niall’s right side and rested his head on his shoulder, making his hair hang loosely over Niall’s back, which he rubbed with his hand. Liam had fixed his knee under Niall’s, elevating his left leg. He touched the long surgery scar on Niall’s knee.

Louis and Zayn lumbered through the doorway, dragging two large lounge chairs with them. They positioned them so they could be seen from the bed, and Zayn dropped the linens on one of them. “Grab some more from your room?”

“Yeah, I’ll get the other stuff, too,” Louis said, closing the glass doors. “You got the water?”

“I’m on it.” Zayn saluted Louis and glanced at the three men on the bed. “Just another minute.” Zayn left with Louis right on his heels. They pulled the door shut hard and the room grew silent.

Niall looked at Liam, who leaned backwards and looked at Harry. Niall looked at Harry, who nodded and smiled. Niall looked ahead at a moth who bonked itself against the lampshade.

A sizzling noise was heard.

The moth had flown too close to the light.

“Can one of you. Explain. Why we need beach chairs?”

Liam patted Niall’s knee and moved back on the bed, still holding Niall’s leg. It made his hip twist and his thigh turned open. “The bed is kind of small.”

Harry’s thumb rubbed the knob at the top of Niall’s neck. “And the room chairs are kind of small.”

“And there’s kind of five of us,” Liam said.

And your cock is kind of huge, Niall thought, biting the inside of his cheek. Oh God. They had talked. “You knew.”

Liam nuzzled against Niall’s neck and lapped at his skin. “Knew what?”

Niall curled his fingers against the inside of Liam’s thigh, holding on. He rolled his head toward Harry, exposing his neck to Liam, who made his strokes broader and longer. Harry’s mouth was pale pink and wet. “You knew I needed this.”

Harry nodded as he kissed Niall deeply. Liam sucked on Niall’s earlobe and whispered, “If you’re up for it… I can take it slow.”

Niall pinched Harry’s hip and broke the kiss. He looked at Liam and blinked several times. “I want to…” But I’ve seen your dick, and I won’t—can’t, don’t want to—take all four of you and who has condoms, not me, because this is not what I was planning when I called for a holiday—

“Water!” Zayn barreled into the room, holding the hem of his shirt up, exposing the skin on his belly. He stood in front of the dresser and dropped his hands. Bottles of water, candy bars, and crisps scattered across the dresser. “In case we get hungry.” Zayn started organising the water and snacks into neat rows.

“You thought of sustenance,” Niall said with awe.

There was a thumping noise at the door. Niall swung his leg off of Liam and went to answer. He was greeted with a cloud of white bedding and tufts of Louis’ hair. A plastic bag was looped over his wrist. “Can’t see.”

Niall took the blankets and let them fall to the floor next to the second lounge chair. Then he picked one up and shook it out carefully.

Behind him, near the nightstand, there was some noise and movement. “I’ve got condoms, lots of lube. Thinner, thicker, flavored—although it’s not very good, kind of medicinal, really…” There was the rustle of the plastic bag being crumpled up. “Got our toothbrushes, too.”

“I got ours,” Zayn said, patting his pocket.

“‘Ours?’” Harry said, so smooth you could hear the smile in his voice. “Is that where you were last night?”

Niall folded the blanket, swaying a bit while Zayn and Liam tried to deflect attention in the background. After draping the blanket over the back of the chair, he repeated the motion with the other one, taking his time. He laid it over the first one and took a slow, strong breath. Finally, he turned around to face the other four men.

Liam and Harry were sat on the bed. Zayn was stretched out on the lounger. Louis rubbed his hands together and looked at Niall. “We missing anything?”

Water, snacks, lube, condoms, extra seating, blankets and pillows.

“Instructions?” Niall tried to laugh, but it was too hollow. He raked his fingers through his hair. “Hmm.”

The five men shifted and moved, darting glances at their hands, the ceiling, each other.

Louis took two large side steps and put an arm over Niall’s shoulder. “Mate.”

“Lou.”

He turned them both so their backs were to the other three. He spoke loudly enough that the others could hear, but quietly enough that Niall could pretend they didn’t. “Ni, we don’t have to do this…”

Niall shook his head tightly. When he spoke, his voice was a half a pitch too high, a quarter-beat too fast. “No, I just—how—once we start it’ll be fine, but it’s the start—”

“I have an idea,” Louis dropped his voice to a calming whisper. “Harry loves eating arse,” Louis squeezed Niall’s arm, “and he never got that with you…”

Niall looked at Louis sideways. The edges of his lips were upturned, and his eyes were questioning.

“I…” Niall’s hands felt clammy. “Won’t the rest of you be bored just…watching?”

Louis chuckled and took a few steps forward, sweeping Niall along in his wake. “Half the fun is in watching, waiting.” He glanced over his shoulder and shook his head. “Imagining.”

Niall’s thumb found his mouth and he chewed the centre of his nail, feeling the thin layer between his teeth. “Do you…wanna help? Like…I dunno.” Niall covered his face and shook his head.

Louis wrapped his arms around Niall, drawing him into a firm hug. Louis swayed and danced until Niall was facing the room. “Look at them,” Louis said in a husky voice. “You don’t have to stick me with Haz. Watching you…and him…together…” Louis’ pelvis tilted up against Niall, bumping him gently. “Or with any of them?”

“Fuck.” Niall looked at Harry, who had lain across the bed, his legs dangling off the edge. He was grinding his palm against his cock in long strokes, his eyes closed. Zayn and Liam were sitting shoulder to shoulder on one of the loungers, giggling and chatting quietly. “I…” Niall tucked his chin against Louis’ neck, kissed him. “If… Do you think if it was Zayn and Haz, they’d kill each other?”

Louis shrugged the shoulder Niall was on. “I dunno, angry sex is hot.”

Niall rolled his eyes and laughed. Then he grew quiet. “Is there…what’re the limits, with Har—”

“Whatever you want,” Louis stepped back and rubbed both of his hands against Niall’s arms. “Serious.”

“Do we need some sort of safe word or some—”

“Niall.” Louis’ voice was gravelly. “Stop stalling.”

“Yeah, OK, yeah.” Niall shook out his wrists. “OK, yeah—” Louis swooped in and kissed him on the mouth. Niall’s cock jumped and he ran a hand over Louis’ chest, feeling the hardness of his nipples through the thin fabric of the t-shirt. Niall spoke so everyone could hear him. “This band…”

Zayn laughed and said, “Yeah, not what we signed up for.” He picked up a bottle of water from between his feet and took a swig of it, then handed it to Liam, who licked his lips and drank.

Harry opened his eyes and gazed at Niall. He cupped his dick over his jeans and squeezed. “What about this band?”

“Bunch of heathens,” Niall said. He approached Harry, straddling his knees. He glanced at Louis, who was watching him with a small smile. Then he crawled on the bed so he was above Harry, hands near his head. “I have a question,” Niall whispered, his cock thickening in his pants.

“Mm?”

Niall kissed Harry’s jaw and said, “I want you to rim me.”

“Shit.” Harry’s hand brushed against Niall’s boxers. “Yeah, I can—”

“And I want Zayn to help. Somehow. I dunno how.” Niall looked at Harry. There was a stiffness in his eyes and Niall pushed his thumb across Harry’s lips. “For me. Hm?”

Harry stroked the soft skin above Niall’s waistband with the back of his fingers, nails smooth like eggshells. “Only for you.” He reached for Niall’s ear and pinched the lobe. “Let me up.”

Niall scrambled off of Harry, who dropped to his knees and crawled across the floor to where Zayn and Liam were sat. He knelt in front of them, his hands on his thighs, and motioned for them to lean down.

While they talked, Niall walked to the dresser and opened a bottle of water. Liam stole a glance at him, and Niall felt his face heat up. He gulped down some water, wishing he wasn’t the only one in just his underwear in the room.

Liam said something to Zayn, whose eyes grew huge. A wide smile fell across Zayn’s features and he rubbed his palm against his jaw. “Promise?”

“Mm,” Liam replied.

Then Zayn was whispering to Harry, whose hips swayed from side to side. Niall felt a hand on his hip and Louis was squeezing it, sliding past him to sit in the second lounger. “Water?”

Niall turned to get him a bottle. Fingers stroked Niall’s neck, ran down his spine, and settled into the dip of his back. A t-shirt rubbed against him and the tip of a tongue traced a damp path over his shoulder blade. Niall shivered and rolled his head back, exhaling through his nose.

Hands slid down his arms and fingers curled over his own.

A lotus flower and a checkered flag.

“Zayn.” A nose nudged against Niall’s back and Zayn continued to kiss him, his t-shirt hem fluttering against Niall. “Take off your shirt.”

Someone cleared his throat. “I can help.”

Niall held his breath, and Zayn let go of him. They shuffled and moved and Zayn’s t-shirt dragged against Niall’s skin and was tossed over his shoulder.

Harry stood in front of Niall, his head cocked to the side and his eyes soft. They travelled over Niall’s face, making him hold his breath.

A memory washed over Niall.

Several months into their arrangement, Niall was catching his breath after he’d come in Harry’s mouth. Harry had swallowed for the first time, and Niall was trying to sort out his feelings about that.

Harry started touching the moles on Niall’s left cheek, counting them. It tickled and Niall giggled. Harry said, “The moles go in a straight line.”

“Oh? Nobody’s ever told me that before.”

“Really?” Harry’s eyes had turned soft and curious. “Well, they do.”

Niall had hugged Harry, pulling him close so he couldn’t see more, using the mass of his body to shield himself from Harry’s wandering eyes.

He had felt exposed, the imperfect bits of him seen for the first time.

And now Harry looked at him the same way.

Harry licked his lips and started undoing his fly, not looking away. Without thinking, Niall turned his head, showing his moles. Zayn’s mouth moved over Niall’s back, and Harry bent over to push his jeans off, his hair brushing against Niall’s stomach. He stood back up, kicked off his jeans and reached up, grabbing the neck of his shirt. He pulled it off and dropped it on the floor.

Harry’s palms slid over the muscles on Niall’s chest and he kissed him, slowly and deeply, while Zayn licked the small of Niall’s back. Niall leaned on Harry, unable to keep his balance.

“I’m going to rim you,” Harry said. Niall bit the inside of his cheek and nodded. “So I’m gonna take your pants off.”

Niall groaned.

“Oh, fuck,” Louis said.

“Just wait,” Liam said.

“Just…what?” Niall looked over his shoulder. “Huh?”

“Trust us,” Liam said.

Harry’s hands slid under Niall’s pants and held his dick, which was hard and jumped at the contact. Harry sucked on Niall’s throat and tugged on his cock a few times. Zayn pulled down the back of Niall’s boxers and bit a cheek, making Niall’s knees shake.

Harry pushed down the front of Niall’s pants and kissed the crease of his thigh, his neck rubbing against the length of Niall’s cock.

Niall wondered how his come would look in Harry’s hair.

Harry looked around the curve of Niall’s thigh and whispered, “Hey.”

“Mm.” Zayn’s tongue ran up the curve of his bum, just on the surface, and Niall remembered the way the sun had glinted against the windows of the plane, making him squint against the light, his cock aching as Zayn had spread him open to lick him. Niall dug his hands in Harry’s shoulders, trying to balance himself.

Zayn stood and Harry’s shoulders were gone, and Niall was being moved around, pliant, and he could see Louis and Liam and no, no, that—

“I need—I need something to lean against,” Niall said, pointing to the glass doors over the porch. His legs moved on their own and he pressed his hands against the window.

“Can we—I need—”

Zayn dropped to the ground in front of Niall. “Li, can I get some pillows?”

“Yeah, hold on.”

Hands massaged Niall’s hips and pillows landed on the floor with a soft thud. Zayn arranged them under his knees. He whispered, “Perfect.” Then his mouth was smooth and hot around Niall’s cock.

A shoulder prodded the inside of Niall’s thigh, and he spread his feet wider, his pelvis and cock lowering. He looked down at Zayn, his hair mussed and damp from the heat. “You OK?”

Zayn nodded and swirled his tongue over the head of Niall’s dick. Niall closed his eyes and let his weight shift to the balls of his feet, his pelvis moving with Zayn’s pressure and sucking.

Something soft pressed against the top of Niall’s bum, and Harry’s tongue flicked up and down against him. He was so high up, nowhere near where Niall really wanted him, yet it made his breath catch.

Harry’s hands kneaded Niall and he nipped at his cheeks, tiny nibbles. He licked Niall’s skin, barely skimming against him. His thumbs ran along the underside of Niall’s full bum, then pushed deeply into the muscle.

Zayn’s hand wrapped around Niall’s dick, and he kissed the tip of it before rubbing his thumb over the slit. He started sucking on Niall again, his thumb still touching him. The feeling of Zayn’s tongue, velvety and wet, along the edge of his thumb, firm and dry, made Niall press his hands harder against the sliding door, forming damp palm prints that condensed on the clean glass.

Niall panted and dropped his head between his shoulders. Zayn’s tongue ran over the vein under Niall’s dick, and he cupped his balls in his free hand. Hands spread Niall open, and Harry inhaled slowly, pulling air across him.

Niall’s back arched. Fuck. This was what Harry was going to do—he was going to take forever. And he was going to take forever while Zayn was sucking on Niall’s balls.

In the window, Niall noticed Louis and Liam’s reflection. Shit. He hadn’t even thought of them. “Lou… Li… I… Fuck.” Niall rested his forehead against the glass.

“Yes, you’re getting fucked,” Liam said.

In the reflection, Niall could see Liam had shucked his shirt and trousers, and his pants were pushed under his cock. He was rubbing his palm over the top of his dick. On the other lounger, Louis’ hands—good God, both of them—were moving under his clothes.

Great, they were fine. And Niall was getting fucked.

A broken movie reel played in Niall’s head. That time Louis was scared of a moth on stage, the time Niall had caught Liam jerking Zayn off on the tour bus, the time he’d patted Harry’s back as he spilled his guts into a toilet bowl. The day his braces came off, singing in a pub alone at home—no, solo. Solo, why was he so afraid—

“Ah!” Niall jumped as Harry’s tongue smoothed over Niall’s rim. Niall gasped and squeezed his eyes shut, hearing Louis’ tinny laugh behind him and then a slapping noise.

Niall turned and glared at Liam and Louis; their hands were dick-free. Niall narrowed his eyes. “Did you fucking high five each other?”

Liam slapped his bicep. “Mosquito.”

Louis threw back his head and laughed. “Niall! You’re fucking fit, and you have two fit men fucking you. What do you want from us?”

“If you keep teasing me…” Niall turned away from them again and dropped one hand to Zayn’s head so he could feel the strands of hair around his fingers. “You won’t get to—”

Harry’s tongue struck again and Niall groaned. His stomach swooped and dropped. “Jesus, Harry.”

“Won’t get to what?” Liam sang.

Zayn did something—swallowed? Squeezed?—Niall couldn’t tell but God, he didn’t want him to stop. Harry’s tongue was opening him in broad strokes, and his cock was engulfed in the sweet warmth of Zayn’s mouth and hands and Niall couldn’t think. He ground his palms against the glass and closed his eyes. Focus. Because this was not going to happen again and holy Christ, if there was ever a thing he was going to wank to, it was this.

Harry scratched Niall’s thighs, making him moan, low and long, and Zayn’s fingers pressed into the tender skin behind his balls. Zayn pulled off of his dick. “Li? Now.”

Steps fell and Harry started sucking and who knew that would feel good on an arse, but dammit if Louis didn’t know what he was talking about when he said Harry was fantastic at this, and lube, Zayn was getting lube, oh, and the tip of Harry’s tongue was gone again and then Zayn’s finger, slick and cool, was circling against Niall.

Niall nodded and his knees shook. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Babe?” Zayn looked up at Niall. “I need you to hold still.”

Harry grabbed Niall’s hips and pulled them back, making Niall’s damp hands squeak against the glass. Bent over, his legs wide, he dropped his jaw and breathed through his mouth while Harry kissed his thighs.

Zayn’s finger pushed against Niall and he felt his arse open, then just as quickly clamp down. God, he was never good at relaxing. Hand jobs and blow jobs were easier.

Niall clawed his way up the glass and looked at Louis in the reflection. He was rolled on his side, and he was rubbing one hand across his thigh, pinching his nipples with his other hand. Niall looked for Liam and frowned. He couldn’t see him in his chair.

A cleared throat made Niall turn his head in the opposite direction. Liam was completely naked on the bedsheets, a pillow tucked under his chest, fists gripping it. He rutted against the bed.

“Fuck,” Niall whispered, his breath shuddering.

Zayn used the moment to push further into him, and Niall’s body closed up again. He shook his head. Even on holiday, even mildly buzzed, he couldn’t be like the rest of them. “I—it feels good, I’m just—”

“We know,” Harry said. His voice dropped to a whisper. “We understand.”

Niall wanted to say _are you sure_ or maybe _thank you_ and _you don’t know_ and _I’ll miss you,_ but he couldn’t settle on a phrase before his eyes went wide. “Are you—”

“He is,” Louis answered.

Harry was licking Niall, and he could tell he was licking Zayn’s finger, too. Zayn moved deeper, so it was all pressure. Inside his arse, against his rim.

In his ribcage.

Around his dick, too, because Zayn was mouthing at him, slow and breathy.

“Zaynie, Haz, I—I—” Niall rocked his hips back and forth, making them follow him. “I—God. God.”

Zayn’s lips closed around him, and his finger started moving, a thrust here, a rub there—there was no pattern Niall could discern. Harry’s tongue moved around Zayn’s finger as much as it could, and Niall’s arse kept clenching. He pushed his forehead into the crook of his arm.

“Ni, wish I could feel your arse,” Liam moaned on the bed, “around me like that.”

Louis chuckled. “Bet he tastes good, too, huh?”

Zayn nodded and Harry managed to agree.

“Shh,” Niall said. “Shh.”

“Sorry,” Louis said quietly. Niall heard the smile in his voice.

Niall shook his head from side to side and Zayn sucked and pushed harder into him, while Harry’s tongue moved roughly across him, all the way up and down him, across Zayn’s skin and around it.

Niall’s body felt electric, that tingling on his flesh the feeling before a storm struck. His pelvis snapped forward once and that was when he broke. Niall drove back and forth, fast and hard. He didn’t worry about Harry or Zayn keeping pace, he just fucked both of them, deciding any touch against his skin—tongue or finger or teeth—would feel good. He cupped the back of Zayn’s head and pushed himself back against Harry at the same time, bringing Zayn with him.

“Haz—hold, bite. Zayn—suck.”

Harry wrapped his arms around Niall’s thighs and held him still, then drew his teeth across him.

“Finger—move—”

It went through Niall like a wave. From the base to the tip, Zayn’s whole finger made a wide circle. He repeated the motion and Harry started humming, his lips buzzing against Niall’s arse as he nipped at him.

“I—you—don’t stop,” Niall stammered. The hardness in his ribcage increased and his toes curled against the floor. A ringing noise filled Niall’s ears, and his abs tightened painfully.

Zayn’s mouth moved quickly over Niall’s cock in a smooth motion, and Harry scratched Niall’s thighs with his stubby fingernails. Harry pulled his teeth across the sensitive skin of Niall’s rim and quickly soothed the mild sting with a soft lick.

“Fuck!” Niall’s pelvis tipped forward, pumping come into Zayn’s mouth. He shook, his arse muscles gripping Zayn’s finger. “Fuck!” Niall slammed a hand on the glass door, making it shake.

The low sound reverberated through the room. Niall’s breathing was quick, shaky and uneven. Silence settled into his bones.

Niall played with Zayn’s hair absently and his softening cock slipped out of his mouth. Zayn kissed the inside of his thigh as Niall looked over his shoulder. Harry was rubbing his cheek against the fullness of his bum. His eyes were closed and a small smile played on his lips. Niall forced back a laugh; Harry looked ridiculous.

“Harry.”

“Mm?”

“Get up.”

“Not yet.”

“I’m cold,” Niall said.

“OK, OK,” Harry said. He kissed Niall and got up, bracing one hand on the floor as he caught his balance.

Zayn kissed the head of Niall’s cock once more. “Damn,” he whispered.

Inside, there was a soft tug and then a slippery feeling, and Zayn slid out of Niall in one swoop. The sensation made Niall squirm and feel shy for some reason he couldn’t pinpoint.

Harry hugged Niall from behind, his pants rubbing against him. “Jesus, Ni.”

Zayn stood up and kissed Niall’s throat. He murmured, “Let’s get you a blanket.” He jutted a thumb towards Liam. “Think he’s got one.”

Harry’s arms fell away and Zayn brought him to the bed. Liam stretched out his left arm and patted the spot next to him. Niall scrambled into the bed and lay down. The heat of Liam’s body was inviting, and Niall rested his head on his bicep. The duvet was pulled over them, and Niall watched the other three.

Louis kissed the corner of Harry’s mouth and whispered something to him. Harry nodded and laughed. Zayn tossed the pillows on the foot of the bed and put the lube back on the nightstand. He leaned over to kiss Niall on the forehead, then winked at Liam and padded off to the bathroom. Louis slapped Harry’s bum and handed him a bottled water.

Harry unscrewed the cap and looked at Niall. “Want some?” He didn’t wait for an answer, bringing it to Niall and kissing his cheek. “Never thought I’d get that,” he said. “Loved, loved, loved…”

Niall sat up and drank the tepid water, watching Harry’s hips sway as he walked off to the bathroom. A kiss on the side of his waist made him hold the bottle out. “Have some,” he said.

Liam drank some water and put it on the nightstand. His lips touched Niall’s shoulder and he pulled him back down to the bed, spooning him.

“How you feeling?”

Niall looked over his shoulder. “Good.” He looked away. “Was it boring watching?”

The muscled line of Liam’s body pressed against him in response. “No, not boring,” he said, pushing his dick against Niall’s arse. “Got a little bit hard, actually.”

Niall’s eyes closed and smiled. Little anything did not describe Liam. His voice replayed in Niall’s mind: _If you’re up for it… I can take it slow._

“You tired?”

Niall turned around so he could make eye contact with Liam, then he dropped his gaze to Liam’s chest. “I need you to go slow.”

Liam groaned and pulled Niall closer to him. “Fuck, I can, ask Zayn.”

“What about me?” Zayn’s feet slapped against the floor and he stood by the bed, naked. He must’ve shed his clothes in the bathroom, Niall realised. Zayn rubbed Niall’s shoulder. “Mind?” He lay against Niall’s back, and draped an arm over Niall’s waist, so he was touching Liam’s hip too.

“Niall says he needs me to go slow.” Liam brushed Niall’s hair away from his forehead.

“Oh, you can do that.”

Niall touched Liam’s chest, feeling the solidness of him. Liam was the start of all of this, really, kissing Niall when he was too shy to ask any of the other boys. When Liam was the only one he trusted not to be upset if Niall didn’t like it.

In his peripheral vision, Harry tore open a packet of crisps before sitting down on the lounger next to Louis. Harry was naked too, his arse pale. He and Louis kissed, long and slow.

Harry must’ve brushed his teeth.

Niall closed his eyes and pushed an emotion he didn’t want to name aside. He moved his knuckles up and down the ridges on Liam’s stomach, feeling the muscle under the downy skin. His hand moved down, and he grabbed Liam’s dick, making Liam exhale loudly. “Ni…”

He kissed Liam and squeezed the head of his cock. “Mm.”

Zayn’s nails ran down Niall’s back. Niall looked over his shoulder. “Condom,” he said, before kissing Liam again. Zayn dropped it over Niall’s shoulder, and Niall broke the kiss. He looked at Liam but spoke to Zayn. “Want to see you put it on him.”

Liam’s eyes widened and his dick jerked under Niall’s hand. “Oh God.”

Zayn propped himself up on one elbow, resting his chin on the top of Niall’s arm. “I’m game.”

Liam laughed and his eyes crinkled. He thrust up into Niall’s hand once, kissed him again, and got up. He walked around the side of the bed.

Zayn swung himself into a seated position on the edge of the mattress. “Ni,” he spread his legs and tapped his thigh twice. “Sit on my lap.”

Niall leaned against Zayn’s torso and sat on his lap with Zayn’s arms encircling his waist. Between Zayn’s legs, Liam stood in front of them both. He put his hands on his hips and leaned back, letting his cock stand out in front of him. A quick glance showed Niall that Louis and Harry were watching intently.

Zayn tore the condom open and dropped the wrapper on the floor. Niall studied the veins on Liam’s dick and watched Zayn’s hands. He stroked down on Liam’s cock once, brushing the hair at the base out of way. Then he rolled the condom on smoothly. “Lube?”

Liam picked up a bottle, examined the label and exchanged it for another one. He gave it to Zayn, who kissed Niall’s back and said, “Hand.”

Niall blinked several times and offered up his palm. Zayn poured the thick lube over it, and Niall leaned forward and rubbed it over Liam, making his own cock twitch against his thigh.

“Good,” Zayn said. “Now, can I hold you?”

Niall’s brow furrowed and he looked at Zayn. “What do you mean?”

“I’m going to cradle you, hold you, just like this.” Zayn put one arm across Niall’s chest and the other on his lower back. “We’ll both have you.”

“What if it hurts? He’s…” Niall leaned back against Zayn and stared at Liam’s dick.

“I know. You might be a size queen after this,” Zayn said. Liam glared at him and he quickly added, “But he’s gentle, I promise. He’ll take care of you.”

“OK.” Niall bit his lip and nodded. “Oh God, OK.”

“Put your arms around my neck.” Niall stretched his arms up and back and locked his hands together behind Zayn’s neck. “We won’t let go.” Zayn nodded against Niall’s shoulder. “Lift.”

Liam hooked his arms under Niall’s legs and then Niall was floating, his shoulders pressed against Zayn, who had one arm wrapped around his chest while the other rubbed circles into his hip. Liam shifted his weight and moved his arms until he found the right height. “Tell us if it hurts. Like, at all.”

“I will.”

Niall closed his eyes, feeling a blunt firmness slip against his arse. Then he felt Zayn’s fingers slide up and down over him. Oh no, he couldn’t use his fingers, it would be too much—

“Hold still, Li,” Zayn said.

Niall wrinkled his brow and tried to stop moving. He felt the side of Zayn’s fingers against him.

Zayn was holding Liam’s dick.

“Oh God,” Niall whispered.

“Ni, need you to relax.” Liam’s voice was smooth and rich like tempered chocolate. “Just let go—”

“I don’t want to fall.”

“Zayn’s strong,” Liam said. “Try to sink into him.”

“Breathe through your mouth, long and deep,” Harry said. He and Louis were tangled together on one of the chairs, just watching.

“Breathe down your spine,” Louis said. He had a sleepy grin on his face. “And breathe with your stomach, not your chest.”

“Drop your jaw, too,” Zayn said. “It helps.”

Niall’s jaw fell open and he tried to do what they said. He let his stomach rise when he inhaled, tried to fill his spine with oxygen. After a minute or so, he felt looser in the back of his neck. The he felt an openness in one vertebra, and another. “Mm.”

“Li’s gonna push in just a bit, OK? He’ll go slow.” Zayn’s voice was silky and Niall sighed in agreement.

But when Liam’s cock pushed forward, it felt too thick and Niall flinched. “Hurts.”

“Is the angle OK?”

“Yeah, think so,” Niall said, wriggling around to check his position. “Yeah.”

“Breathe,” Harry said.

“Think of wide open things,” Louis added. “Outer space.”

Niall laughed. “Outer space?”

“Big and open,” Louis said.

“Sure,” Zayn said. “Outer space.”

“The ocean,” Liam added. His stroked his thumbs against Niall’s thighs.

Niall thought of black holes and that photo of the starbirth and how there was no sound in space. He thought of the warmth of the ocean outside of their room and how deep you could go and how if he dove under the water nobody would know where he was. He felt Liam’s fingers firm on his thighs and Zayn could probably feel his heart right under his skin and the blood thundered in his ears, but Zayn’s voice came through it, low and consistent like rain on concrete.

“Think of outer space and oceans and…and…think of…” Zayn kissed Niall’s ear. “Kiss him Liam.”

Liam dipped his head down and kissed Niall, wet and open. He kissed the curve of Niall’s upper lip, and the corners. He couldn’t quite reach and Niall didn’t care, he just wanted to smell Liam’s breath and feel the hairs on his upper lip dust over him.

“The stadiums!” Zayn exclaimed. “Don’t stop, Liam.” He kissed Niall’s throat, and his words vibrated against the skin. “The stadiums… Think of the stadiums—when it’s just us practicing on stage and nobody’s there, and it’s all wide open spaces, empty.”

Liam’s dick nudged against Niall, just like his hand would touch Niall’s back when he forgot his mark on stage. It felt good and Niall shifted against him, trying to reach for it.

“And think of how we’d wait backstage, and hear the screaming and shouting, and then run out, nervous every time.” Liam’s tongue was soft and his mouth was warm. But his kisses were more breath than lips, more suggestion than action. It was messy and comforting. “And we’d burst onstage and it was all ours, the whole world—”

“Oh!” Niall’s eyes popped open and he felt a fullness inside of him. “Oh my God!”

Liam laughed and kissed Niall in a series of pecks, both of them grinning. Liam straightened up and beamed, his cheeks a little pink.

“I can’t believe that outer space thing worked,” Zayn said to Louis. His hand fell away from Liam’s dick and he readjusted, wrapping both arms around Niall’s chest. “How’d you come up with that?”

“I’m brilliant,” Louis said. Niall’s head rolled to the side and he saw Louis stroking Harry’s cock.

Harry looked at Niall with a smile. “Keep breathing…”

No longer worried he would fall, Niall loosened his arms from Zayn’s neck and hugged his forearms. Zayn nuzzled against him and Niall said, “I want more.”

Zayn wriggled one hand free from Niall and felt around Niall’s rim. He looked around and said, “Hey, sorry guys, but can one of you get the lube? I think it rolled off the bed.”

“I will.” Harry extracted himself from Louis’ limbs and found it on the floor next to the nightstand. He knelt next to Niall and poured some lube onto Zayn’s fingertips. Zayn rubbed it onto Niall and Liam while Harry brushed hair away from Niall’s temple. “Love you.” He kissed Niall’s hairline. “Love watching this.”

“Thanks,” Niall whispered.

Harry climbed onto the chair next to Louis and kissed him. He ground his hip against Louis, who palmed his arse. “Haz’s right, Ni.”

Liam wrapped his arms around Niall’s legs. “Ready?”

“Think so.”

“I’ll go slow.”

“I have done this before,” Niall said. He thought for a moment. “OK, not this exactly.”

Louis and Harry whispered to each other, and Harry said, “Ni, you might know this, but push down just a little as he goes in.”

“Push down?”

“Yeah, like. Inside,” Louis said. “Just… It moves everything around. We can do an anatomy lesson later.”

“They’re right. And breathe,” Zayn said. He reached up and put two fingers against Niall’s bottom lip. He touched the edge of Niall’s teeth. “Bite down if you need to, but breathe.”

Niall sucked on Zayn’s fingers, inviting him in. They smelled like soap and it took him a second to realise why. They’d been inside of Niall, and now Liam was inside and oh God. Niall fitted his teeth behind Zayn’s knuckles, opened his mouth to breathe, and bore down on Liam.

When he felt a thick pressure, he drew in ragged breaths. “Wait, wait…”

“Mm,” Liam said, closing his eyes for a moment.

Zayn kissed the side of Niall’s head. “You OK?”

Niall nodded and licked Zayn’s fingers again, pushing them apart with his tongue. “Yeah, just need a little time.” He suckled on Zayn’s fingertips and then opened his jaw, breathing deeply several times.

He made soft-lidded eye contact with Liam. Liam tilted his head, a wordless question, and Niall sighed _yes_. He inhaled as slowly as he could, bit Zayn—not as firmly as before—and pushed down on Liam, who clung to Niall’s thighs.

Niall felt pressure and then there was a sudden slipping and his body seemed to pull Liam into him. He panted. He felt full, but it was too easy, like there had to be more. “What was that?”

Zayn took his slick fingers from Niall’s mouth and felt Niall and Liam again. “Oh fuck, it worked.”

“All the way?” Liam asked. “Really?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“Wow,” Louis murmured.

“More, oh God, more,” Niall said. “Please.”

Zayn was right; Liam was gentle. He moved back and forth, easy, his whole body lithe like a willow. Niall’s dick rocked in time, rolling back and forth against his thigh. Zayn’s fingers ran lightly over Niall’s cock, but he hissed. “Too much.”

“Ah,” Zayn said. “Tell me if you want it later.”

“Promise.” Niall’s exhales grew louder, interrupted by whimpers. In the background he heard Harry and Louis groaning. He looked at them and saw Louis kissing Harry’s throat. Harry had a thigh wrapped around the back of Louis’ leg.

A sense of relief flooded over Niall. He pushed his shoulders against Zayn’s chest, then released his weight so he dropped forward onto Liam.  He did it again, and Liam understood the request. He picked up his tempo.

Zayn drummed his fingers over Niall’s torso. He was stronger than Niall had expected, and his back probably hurt from holding this position. But Zayn’s chest was warm and slick, and his breath crossed Niall’s cheek like a damp paintbrush and Niall didn’t want him to move.

“Jesus,” Niall said. “Yes, more, more.”

“Ni, mm,” Liam moaned. He leaned forward, changing the angle and kissing Niall on the forehead. It was too sweet, too soft, and so out of place it made Niall’s heartbeat quicken.

His eyes roamed over Liam’s body. His biceps were straining and his arrow tattoo was flexing in the light. He’s so fit, Niall thought idly as his gaze traced the edge of the shadow behind his own thigh. Niall’s eyes widened and then narrowed.

“Touch me, Zayn,” he said.

Zayn sucked on Niall’s neck and grabbed his soft cock. He gave it a few pulls, his tongue flaming hot on Niall’s throat.

Liam looked down at Zayn’s hand and Niall’s cock. “You feel so good, Ni, so good.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Niall’s cheeks burned and he spoke quietly. “I don’t know why I’m not hard.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Zayn said, stroking the head of his cock. “Bottoming is work, trust your body.”

“I don’t want to disappoi—”

“Niall!” Liam froze, bent down and brushed his lips against Niall’s cheek. He spoke so only the three of them could hear. “Stop! Quit doubting yourself.” He rocked his hips smoothly, and Niall gasped and tried to roll his head from side to side. He was trapped between Zayn’s hot breath and Liam’s scruffy cheek and gasping for air. “You are amazing, just like this.”

“We love you, Ni.” Zayn squeezed his palm over Niall’s nipple as Liam righted himself again. “And,” Zayn whispered so quietly Niall had to turn his cheek to hear, “Li doesn’t stay hard when he bottoms either. Just means he has more time to fuck you.”

Niall groaned and pinched his shoulders together against Zayn’s chest, trying to get leverage to push down lower, harder. “Help me, Zaynie.”

“Mm?”

“Need to be closer.”

“Li, wait.” Liam’s hips stuttered to a stop and he groaned. “Come here.” Zayn hooked a foot around the inside of Liam’s ankle and tugged him forward. Zayn sat up straighter, so Niall’s whole back was against Zayn’s chest. He ran his hands firmly up and down Niall’s side, his fingers sliding over the ridges of his ribcage and settling around his waist. “How’s this?”

“Yes, yes,” Niall said.

Liam lifted and arched on his toes, moving inside and against Niall in a smooth arc. Up and deep and down and back, up and deep… Niall held his breath when Liam pushed in and exhaled quickly when Liam pulled out, afraid he might not come back. Niall’s hips fell open even more, and Liam pulled him tighter against his body.

“Damn, Liam.” Niall grasped Liam’s forearms. He knew Zayn wouldn’t let go, but that didn’t mean he didn’t need to hold on. “And Zayn, I—”

Zayn started moving with Niall, or maybe against Liam, who could tell, really. When Liam pushed in, Zayn used his hands and his body weight to push Niall down, and when Liam pulled back, Zayn leaned back too, making Liam’s cock drag inside of Niall.

“Fuck, Zayn. Fuck!” Niall shook his head.

Louis laughed. “Should thank Liam, too.”

“Shh,” Harry said.

“Shut up, Lou!” Niall said sharply. Liam laughed and Niall said, “Kiss me. Liam, kiss me.”

Liam leaned forward and Zayn pushed Niall toward him. Their kiss was slow as Liam’s hips, and the wine made it syrup sweet as their first kiss, back when Niall wondered how long they’d get to tour and if he’d ever have to go back to school.

Niall bit his damp lip and Liam groaned and turned his head, exposing his throat. Niall traced his fingers down the front of it, running over his Adam’s apple before resting in the dip, feeling the heavy beat of Liam’s pulse there. He touched the chestnut-coloured birthmark and Liam exhaled a hard breath. What would it be like…

Niall pushed his nose under Liam’s jaw and kissed his neck. Then he swept his tongue over the mark, almost disappointed that it didn’t feel—or taste—any different. He kissed the spot again, pulling the skin between his teeth and sucking on it for only a moment.

“Christ,” Liam said, shaking his head. He slid his hips back, and Zayn pulled Niall away from Liam, making him moan. “Niall, I’m… Fuck, thank you,” Liam said. “For this.”

“Love you,” Zayn said, his mouth brushing over Niall’s ear. “And I’m sorry I left.”

He said it too loudly, and Harry inhaled sharply. Next to him, Louis swore under his breath.

“I’m…I’m not angry anymore.” Liam’s fingers flitted over Niall’s skin, leaving behind a hot trail. Niall caught Liam’s hands in his own and put them on top of Zayn’s, twining the fingers of his left hand with theirs.

“Li,” Zayn choked out.

At the sound of Zayn’s voice Liam’s movements changed, his hips driving back and forth. Zayn immediately matched his moves, as if he knew what to expect.

Niall touched Liam’s chest, feeling the thumping beneath the skin. His own head throbbed from the blood rushing through it, and Zayn’s heartbeat could be felt against Niall’s back.

Niall turned his head and kissed Zayn. It was sloppy, and the taste of tobacco stung his tongue. There was a groan and a snap of hips, and Niall knew that someone else needed the taste more.

“Kiss him,” Niall whispered to Zayn, raising an eyebrow.

“But—”

Niall looked at Liam and spoke simply. “Kiss him.”

There was a fleeting moment where the words hung in the air and Niall was afraid everything was going to stop, but then Zayn and Liam collided over his shoulder, and Niall was pressed between them, listening to the smacking and the moaning and feeling smug that he’d done that.

With his eyes closed, Niall tilted his head to one side, then felt it roll in the opposite direction. He panted and stretched his neck up, looking at the ceiling. He couldn’t be sure how it happened, or when it started, but they had stopped kissing each other.

Zayn’s mouth was on one side of Niall’s throat, nuzzling along his jawline and in the dip behind his ear. On the opposite side, Niall’s pulse was fluttering beneath the heat of Liam’s lips.

“I—shit, fuck,” Niall said.

Inside of him, Liam’s movements slowed. It made Niall scramble for something to hold onto. He wrapped one hand around the back of Liam’s head and reached around to grab Zayn’s hair, wherever he could. He squeezed around Liam’s cock and stammered, “You both—need—now.”

Niall heard fragments, but he couldn’t piece them together. _Niall, Jesus_ and _hold him_ and _fuck that’s hot_ and _Niall_ again and _go, go_.

Fingers dug into Niall’s flesh. Liam’s hips drove up into him. Zayn pushed him down, heavy and hard. Niall clenched around Liam, wanting to keep him there, trap him, but Liam and Zayn had other ideas, and all he could do was let go.

Niall curled his hand loosely around Liam’s neck, felt the damp sweat in Zayn’s hair. Liam controlled the action, each thrust lingering a little longer than the one before it, and Zayn controlled the reaction, pushing his hips from side to side or back and forth.

Liam’s breathing became forced, puffs of hot breath passing over Niall’s skin while Zayn muttered “Ni, Ni” and Niall’s eyes clamped shut and he went pliant, moving between both of them and then he was tumbling backwards against Zayn and the bed and Liam was over them both, his teeth catching Niall’s shoulder, and he was pulsing inside of the condom.

“God, Niall, Jesus Christ…”

Hands moved over Niall’s thighs and his eyes closed, his chest heaving under the solid weight of Liam’s body. A tongue lapped against the back of his neck and lips pressed dry kisses into his front of his shoulder.

After a long silence, Niall whispered, “My God.”

Zayn nodded into his shoulder and Liam sighed and Louis groaned, and when Niall looked, Harry’s head bobbed easily. Niall nodded, too, although he wasn’t sure at what, and he inhaled deeply and exhaled, content.

“Love you,” Liam said. He kissed Niall softly and pulled out, holding the condom against his dick. He wandered off slowly to the bathroom, yawning and rubbing his cheek. Niall rolled off of Zayn and bent around his body.

“Damn.”

Zayn snorted. “Yeah, damn.”

Niall touched the smooth skin of Zayn’s cock, making him grab Niall’s wrist. “Sor—”

“I’m just too sensitive right now. I need—” Zayn made eye contact with Niall and kissed the soft crease of his palm. He nodded his head toward Harry and Louis. “Later?”

“Later,” Niall whispered. His hand trailed over Zayn’s hip as Zayn left the warmth of the bed. Niall stretched, long and lithe, and rolled onto his back.

Harry needed to get blown.

“Lou?”

“Niall?”

“I want…” Niall started at the ceiling. “Can you and Harry come here?”

“We can,” Harry said hoarsely.

“You,” Niall said, pointing to Louis. “Why are you still dressed?”

Louis laughed and shucked off his trousers and shirt. “Need anything else?”

“Food.” Niall looked at them both and sat up against the headboard. “Bring me something, fuck, I’m hungry.”

Liam came out of the bathroom chuckling. “I’m hungry, too.”

Zayn tossed Liam a candy bar. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Liam rubbed a hand over his head. “Can I join you?”

Niall tried to hide his grin. Liam looked so shy and unsure, like he was asking his crush out for the first time, like he and Zayn had just met. Niall flashed a smile at Louis and Harry as they crawled into bed with him, one on each side. Zayn scooted over on the beach chair so Liam could sit next to him, and then he tucked the blanket around them both before kissing Liam on the cheek quickly.

“Oh my God!” Niall whispered and smacked Louis’ thigh. “Look, Zayn’s…” Niall looked again. Liam was holding out his chocolate bar so Zayn could taste it. “They’re flirting…” Niall’s eyes went soft and he nudged Harry with his elbow.

“I see.” Harry put an arm across Niall’s waist and kissed his shoulder. “Arm.”

Niall lifted his arm and Harry tucked himself under it, nuzzling into the hair.

Harry tangled a leg around Niall’s on his right side, while on his left Louis’ hand roamed over his torso. Niall kissed Louis first, and then Harry.

“What do you want, Ni?” Louis asked.

“Crisps,” Niall answered seriously.

Louis giggled and opened a packet for Niall. He stole two crisps from the bag before handing it over.

Niall ate quickly, salt and grease covering his fingers. Louis and Harry dipped into the bag, making Niall smack both of their hands. “Get your own.”

“Ni, I think we’re all in a sharing mood,” Harry said, poking his chest.

“Fair point.” Niall passed the bag to Harry, who polished it off, followed up by a bottle of water Louis shared. Niall licked his fingers clean and slid down the bed so he was resting on the pillows. “Take off your pants, Lou.”

Louis laughed and took his briefs off. Niall snatched them from him and twirled them around on his finger. “Finally, we’re equals!” He chuckled and tossed them onto the floor.

Louis laughed and leaned over Niall, so close he could see the reddish tint in his facial hair. Louis kissed the corner of Niall’s mouth and ran his finger over the line of Niall’s nose, making him scrunch up his face because it tickled. Niall reached up and met Louis’ lips, still cool from the water.

They kissed long and hard, Louis’ hand cupping Niall’s jaw, and Niall’s hand around the back of Louis’ neck. Niall was loosely aware that Harry was grinding against his hip and his hand was rubbing his chest. But the way Louis’ mouth opened for Niall was more important, and Niall needed to feel his firm lips against his own.

Louis drew back to catch his breath. Niall turned to Harry. While Louis’ fingers roamed over his body, they kissed. It was hard at first, the only way Niall knew to kiss Harry, but then Harry put a hand against Niall’s chest and whispered, “Can we…”

Harry licked his lips and blinked lazily before taking a deep breath. He leaned forward, still pressing against Niall’s chest, and kissed him.

It was so soft Niall whined. He rolled over a bit, covering more of Harry with his body while he arched his back to brush his bottom over Louis’ thigh.

“Harry.” Niall exhaled hard through his nose. “Fuck.”

“Haven’t they…” Liam’s voice dropped and Niall couldn’t hear the whole sentence. “…before?”

“I thought so,” Zayn said. Niall heard him groan, followed by the swish of the blanket and breathy noises.

Louis kissed the back of Niall’s neck wetly. Niall moaned and said, “Can I…leave a mark?”

Niall’s skin tingled where Louis sucked hard on it, and he took that as permission.

Niall tucked Harry’s hair behind his ear, and Harry rolled his head to the side. Niall flattened his tongue over Harry’s throat and licked him, using small strokes. When his tongue was near the sharp edge of Harry’s jaw, Harry’s breath caught.

Niall smiled and scraped his teeth over Harry’s skin. Then he kissed him hard, nipping and sucking until he was sure there was a mark.

Hands snaked around Niall’s waist. Louis’ hand stroked his stomach while Harry’s fingers curled in the hair at the base of his cock, which was full again. Louis’ leg was pressed against the back of Niall’s thighs and Harry was rocking up against him, rubbing his cock against him.

Niall touched the dark red blemish on Harry’s throat and ground his arse against Louis. “Lou.”

“Mm?”

“Want you to blow Harry.”

Harry’s hips canted and he grabbed Niall’s ear, squeezing it. “Ni—”

Louis pulled Niall away from Harry. “Kiss me.”

Niall rolled so he was facing Louis. Harry moved, too, clinging to his back, rubbing the heel of his palm into Niall’s shoulder blade. Louis’ chin brushed over Niall’s cheek and then Louis kissed him deeply.

“You want to watch?” Louis pretended to be quiet, but Harry whimpered and Liam cursed.

Niall shrugged and nipped at Louis’ lower lip and let his fingernails graze over the length of Louis’ cock. “Want to see how you do it.”

Louis let out a startled laughed and he shook his head. “Love you, Ni.”

After some quick shuffling, Harry was on his back and Louis was settled between his legs. He looked over his shoulder, then at Niall. “Never had an audience for this.”

“Ha!” Zayn scoffed. “As if we haven’t walked in on you fuckers before—”

“Not on purpose!” Louis rolled his eyes.

“It was on purpose for me,” Liam mumbled.

Louis hid his face against Harry’s thigh. “I hate all of you,” he said.

“Louis,” Harry bounced his leg up and down. “Just…please?”

Niall reached down and touched Louis’ head lightly, scratching his scalp. “Lou…” Niall let his hand trail through Louis’ hair and he leaned over Harry, kissing him. It was soft, and Niall liked this Harry.

In the middle of a kiss, Harry’s hips curled and he inhaled and sucked hard on Niall’s tongue.

Well. Louis must have started then.

Niall kissed Harry’s neck and collarbones, then laid his head on his chest. One hand found itself in Harry’s hair while the other simply rested on his stomach, feeling the muscles just under his skin tense and relax as Louis moved over Harry’s cock.

“Let me.” Harry wrapped a hand around Niall’s dick.

They kissed again, and Niall rutted again the sheets. Niall tapped Harry’s chest. “I don’t need to come right now, want you to.”

“Fuck,” Harry moaned, closing his eyes and sliding his heels against the bed.

The heat around Niall’s dick felt good, but Niall was distracted watching Harry. His hips were slow to move at first, but then they started to cant and tip in undulating waves.

The first several times he’d blown Harry, Niall had needed to hold his hips down. Then Harry had gotten used to staying still, and Niall told him he used the noises Harry made as his guide. Niall flexed his fingers to keep from reaching out to stop Harry’s hips. Instead, he kissed Harry again before watching how Louis took him down deeply, his eyes closed and Harry’s cock wet.

Niall was content watching Louis’ movements and Harry’s reactions, kissing Harry, thrusting into his loose hold from time to time. Harry’s muscles kept drawing taut, then slack. He kissed Niall harder, whimpering.

“You’re so fit,” Niall said, twirling a lock of Harry’s hair around his finger and grinning at him. “Lou, too.” He kissed him again, and felt Harry’s nails dig into his back.

Niall rocked his hips into the bed and Harry’s hand and felt Harry’s body go tight beneath him. It lengthened and stretched, too abruptly. Harry shook his head and went slack. “Fuck, I…”

Louis moved quickly for several long strokes, then slowed down and took Harry in deeper. Louis’ shoulders were tense.

Niall studied how Harry frowned and twisted his body. Something was wrong.

He could…help…

Niall bit his lip and sat up, shaking himself free from Harry’s arms. He glanced behind him. Harry’s hands were grabbing the sheets, and his jaw was clenched. Although his eyes were closed, Niall twisted his shoulder to block Harry’s view. He found Louis’ wrist and pulled it near his mouth, then bent down to Louis’ ear.

“Teeth.”

Louis pulled off of Harry, then sucked on just the head of his dick, which made Harry sigh and thrust his hips up.

_Teeth_ , Niall mouthed. He folded down all of Louis’ fingers except for the first one. He took it in his mouth and suckled the tip, then slid down to the base of it. He looked at Louis sideways and tugged the edge of his teeth over Louis’ skin.

Louis’ eyes went wide and Niall nodded as his finger fell from his lips. Niall raised both eyebrows and kissed the side of Louis’ forehead.

Harry’s laurel tattoos moved with his breath, and Niall pressed a trail of kisses across one, then licked along his ribcage. He looked at Louis one more time and smirked before flicking his tongue against the feathers on one of Harry’s sparrows.

Niall kissed Harry deeply, and in the middle of a languid kiss, Harry’s spine arched and he slapped Niall’s back, making it burn. “You told!”

He wasn’t upset, but Niall still turned his head away. He skimmed his lips over Harry’s cheek. “Yeah…sorry…”

Harry nosed at Niall’s jaw and their lips met. Harry’s hips snapped and he said, “Not sorry—”

“Mm.”

Harry wrapped both arms around Niall, clinging to him as he groaned. “Ni, Lou, Jesus.”

“Li,” Zayn said, his voice drawn out in a whisper.

One hand slid over the curve of Niall’s back and the roundness of his bum. His other hand was in Louis’ hair. Niall bit Harry’s ear. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

Harry’s muscles finally contracted repeatedly, harder each time. There was no hesitation now.

Because of Niall’s lips and Louis’ teeth, Harry reacted. He pushed his body up against both of them, and then his brow wrinkled and his upper body lifted from the bed, carrying Niall with him.

There was a pause and the air felt thin, and then Harry fell hard against the pillow and his nails dug into the back of Niall’s neck.

“Oh, oh,” Harry’s pelvis rose with the words and fell with the silences. “Oh, oh God, oh.”

Niall inhaled and forced himself to breathe. He kissed Harry around the syllables, tasting the salt on his tongue, feeling the slip of oil on the corner of his mouth.

Harry kissed Niall back, quick nips and dry smacks. He breathed heavily and Louis kissed the insides of his thighs, the hair around his cock.

Niall rubbed Louis’ shoulder. “Come here.”

Louis crawled up the bed, pausing to roll his shoulders back. He collapsed next to Harry, who giggled and then covered his mouth. “I’m sorry, it’s not funny,” Harry said, before laughing again and covering his face.

Louis leaned over Harry, reaching for Niall’s cheek, and Niall met him over Harry’s butterfly tattoo, which expanded and shrank beneath them both.

“What’s up, Lou?” Niall grinned and waited for a joke about his braces, or maybe a vampire dig.

A kiss wasn’t what he expected, but Niall relaxed into it, and he let Louis take over, controlling the depth and tempo. When Louis finally drew back, Niall swallowed and felt his cheeks go pink.

It wasn’t Louis alone who he tasted.

Niall looked down at Harry, who gazed up at both of them. Niall propped himself up on one elbow and ran his fingers over Louis’ nipples, then Harry’s—splaying his hand so he could reach all of them in one pass.

“You two,” Niall said. “Jesus, you two.” He sat up on the side of the bed and kicked his toes against the floor. He laced his fingers together above his head and leaned into the stretch until he felt his chest open up and his back pop.

Liam and Zayn were side by side on the lounge chair, comfortable and casual, neither of them looking particularly eager to move, their hands grazing each other. Niall stood up and approached Zayn, his hips and cock both swaying as he tried to loosen the muscles in his body. He touched the top of Zayn’s thigh and braced himself as he bent over. “Can you give me a few minutes?”

Zayn shrugged. “I’m in no hurry.” He looked around the room. “None of us are.”

“Me neither,” Niall said, pushing against Zayn’s leg so he could stand up again.

Niall rubbed his stomach and walked to the bathroom. He turned on the light and squinted, even though it wasn’t that bright. He kicked Zayn and Harry’s clothes across the floor before splashing water on his face and running his damp fingers through his hair.

Niall caught himself smiling in the mirror and cleared his throat, trying to force down the laughter he felt bubbling in his chest. He lifted one eyebrow and looked over his shoulder, then shook his bum at himself. He looked good, of course everyone wanted a piece of hi—

A cough in the room made Niall jump and he righted himself, checking the door was closed.

Niall planted his palms on the counter and let his speeding heart slow down. He washed his hands, ran cool water over the inside of his wrists, where the veins created a coloured map on his skin.

He recognised his mates by their laughs, by the way their bodies moved when they strode—or tumbled—across stage. And by their ink.

He hoisted his ankle onto the edge of the vanity and touched the spot near the bone. He’d been afraid he’d regret that tiny screw tattoo, so he bailed on getting it. There was always later, he said. Now he wondered if he could find an open tattoo parlour before getting on his flight.

But. Maybe they knew him because he had no tattoos. Niall chewed on the inside of his cheek and frowned, then let his foot drop to the floor before he looked in the mirror again.

Love bites, tousled hair. Some thin welts crisscrossed his back, but he couldn’t think of who had left them. He turned and found some smudges on his hips.

Niall rubbed his palms over his sides and shivered, his nipples turning hard. No need to worry about tomorrow when tonight wasn’t over. Niall rolled his head from side to side and shook his shoulders out, then walked back into the room.

Louis and Harry were curled up together on the bed, the duvet crumpled over their bodies in a wrinkled mess. They were watching Liam and Zayn, who were facing each other on the lounger, kissing, their eyes closed. Zayn’s leg was between Liam’s, and he groaned and ground against him. Liam’s hands were on Zayn’s face, and his thumbs rubbed the highpoints of his cheekbones.

Niall crossed his arms over his chest, leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes. He listened to the lovers, the dry sound of skin on skin, the wet sound of their lips leaving traces on each other. But under it, just above the sound of his own breathing, Niall heard the muffled voices and the small giggles.

Early on, when they had only one tour bus and the hotel rooms they could afford to stay in had paper-thin walls, they had learned to pretend they couldn’t hear each other. Most of the time, at least. They’d roll away from each other, or pull hats low over their foreheads, and act like hollow doors and fabric curtains provided privacy. Then, over breakfast, someone would slurp their tea with a smirk, and another boy would laugh and return a crude gesture and at least one person would blush or offer up a barbed reply.

When they could afford multiple buses and larger hotel rooms, the noises changed. Instead of kissing and unzipping, sucking and moaning, it was conversations that spilled onto the streets, loud laughter that rolled down the guarded hallways, and heated disagreements that hissed between teeth. When they couldn’t avoid each other, they’d learned to find dark corners, the privacy of a bathroom, to linger a little longer in a dressing room.

Once, on a brief break at home, Niall had struggled to sleep. He could hear the clunking of the radiators starting, the low din of a TV on in the house, but it was otherwise too quiet. He started to jerk off, figuring it would help him sleep. But his grip kept slipping, and he only grew more frustrated.

Then he remembered the shattering of porcelain, the splashing of tea, and ‘oh, for God’s sake, Niall!’ His fingers squeezed his cock and sounds bubbled up in his memory. The kissing noises, the way Louis’ accent got stronger as he got drunker, the sound of a body sagging against a bed. Harry’s too-loud laugh when he was sleep-dumb, a banging door on a bus, the low note Liam made when he came. There was the thigh drumming that happened when they wrote new songs, the way his own voice sounded thick when he was recording music, and the echo of Zayn singing in the shower long after the water must have gone cold.

He had let the sounds flow over him, one unrelated noise blending into another, beatboxing and the static of international phone calls and the earsplitting screams, the way it turned into crowds singing their songs, remembering the lyrics when the boys lost their places on stage.

In the cottage, Niall’s hand dropped to his cock, which was full from the memory. He ran his hand over himself and his eyes opened, his lids heavy. Harry and Louis whispered and nodded while Zayn’s hands skittered over Liam’s body, and Liam’s hand hid Zayn’s cock from view.

Niall took the lube from the nightstand and hummed and caught Liam’s eye. A chin tipped up in reply, and Niall chuckled quietly, approaching Liam and Zayn. He pumped the lube into Liam’s hand and put it down, then sat on the side of the lounge chair.

“Might be cold,” Liam warned.

“I know,” Zayn said, flinching at the touch and rolling toward Liam.

“Zaynie…” Niall touched Zayn’s waist and slid in the open space behind him, the arm of the chair digging into his shoulder.

“Ni.” Zayn’s voice was airy.

Niall kissed Zayn’s neck and remembered how good it felt to have the weight of Liam and Zayn holding him, the heat of both of their bodies enveloping him. He rubbed the inside of his wrist over the jut of Zayn’s hipbone and found Liam’s fingers. Liam started to pull his hand away, and Niall scrambled to wrap his hand around Liam’s.

“Fuck, don’t stop for me.”

“I—” Zayn’s hip thrust forward.

“Mm?” Liam said.

“I—” Zayn rocked his arse from side to side, rubbing it against Niall’s cock. “You both…”

Liam laced his fingers with Niall’s and they grasped Zayn’s dick together. They moved up and down, their slow strokes making Zayn whimper.

With his free hand, Niall scratched Zayn’s scalp. He dipped his nose into the glossy black hair and inhaled deeply, smelling the beach and the night. He lifted his head and peeked at Liam. “We’re glad you’re here.” Niall pressed his upper body against Zayn’s back, pushing him closer to Liam, and Zayn kissed Liam while hands still worked over his thick cock.

Watching their lips move together and apart, tongues pushing into each other’s mouths, and feeling Zayn’s lungs fill with air beside him made Niall’s dick throb. He nudged it against the cleft of Zayn’s arse and pulled his hand down quickly over Zayn’s cock.

Liam’s eyes flew open and Zayn’s hips jutted up. Niall took control, jerking their hands at a speed he liked. He licked the edge of Zayn’s ear and spoke easily. “Bum against me, need some room.”

Zayn wriggled against Niall, making a pocket of space between him and Liam. “Yeah?”

“You’ve been so patient, helping me come and taking me down your throat…” Niall drew up across the head of Zayn’s dick and pressed his fingers together against Liam’s, stopping the movement. He circled the tip with his thumb and Zayn swallowed hard. Niall winked at Liam and started a slow, firm slide down Zayn’s shaft. “And then you held me,” he twisted his hand around Zayn’s cock, “while Liam fucked me.”

Liam moaned this time. “Jesus.”

“You’ve been gone too long, Zaynie.” Niall pulsed his fingers and Zayn reached into the touch, his hips gliding forward. Niall shook his head and kissed Zayn’s ear. “Back here, baby,” he said, pulling Zayn harder against his body and tucking his pelvis closer against him.

“Hard,” Zayn said.

“I know,” Niall said, tugging on Zayn’s dick again. “But if you don’t leave room…” Niall cleared his throat and looked at Liam evenly. He spoke louder. “Need room so you can come all over Liam’s stomach for me.”

“Oh fuck,” Zayn said.

“I want to see it…” Niall kissed Zayn’s throat again and spoke into his skin. “Need to see it…”

“Christ,” Harry said. Niall looked sideways and saw Harry crawl across the bed. He sprawled out on his stomach, his head near the foot of the bed, and Louis joined him. Both their eyes were wide and their shoulders brushed against each other as they settled in to watch. Harry’s voice dropped. “This is so hot.”

Liam groaned and peppered Zayn with kisses and mumbled, “I missed you.”

Zayn’s body stiffened next to Niall, and his breath hitched. “See, Liam wants it, too—”

Liam nuzzled against Zayn’s cheek and whispered, “I don’t want to miss you anymore—”

“Wants to feel you all over him—”

“Liam…” Zayn moaned. “Niall…” He repeated their names, and each time his voice grew deeper and the vowels became more drawn out. Niall closed his eyes to capture the feeling of it—the way the rumbling vibrated down Zayn’s spine and across Niall’s own chest. His forearm burned and he kept his hand going as he licked and bit Zayn’s neck. “I—I—”

“I need you,” Liam said.

“Oh fuck,” Zayn’s whole body went tense.

“Liam, let go,” Niall commanded. He loosened his fingers for just a moment and then Niall alone had all of Zayn. “I need you, too.”

“Yes!” Zayn cried. His heel jammed into Niall’s shin and Niall held his dick against Liam’s tanned skin. “Yes, yes.” He spasmed and Niall let his fingers slide smooth and easy over the soft skin as Zayn’s come streaked across Liam’s lower stomach.

“Fuck,” Louis whispered.

Liam groaned and exhaled heavily, and Niall waited until Zayn went limp and loose. Niall swiped his thumb over the slit of his softening cock, collecting the last drops of heat from him.

Niall pressed his thumb against Liam’s stomach, hoping to leave behind his fingerprint made out of Zayn’s come. “Watch.”

Liam and Zayn glanced at each other and then looked down. Slowly, Niall dragged a zigzag shape through the come on Liam’s stomach. It was warm, and Liam’s skin was hot.

“An N?” Zayn laughed.

Liam grinned. “For Niall!”

“No, not an N.” Niall kissed Zayn’s cheek and sat up. He leaned over Zayn’s shoulder and kissed Liam deeply before he drew a short line across the middle bar. “Zed.”

Liam inhaled sharply. “Nia—”

Niall halted Liam with another kiss. “It’s always Zed.”

Zayn flushed and looked away, and Niall brushed his lips over his forehead, which was dotted with sweat. He licked the salt from his lips. “It’s true,” he whispered, before standing up. He found the duvet and tucked it around Liam and Zayn, whose heads were tipped toward each other, pressed together.

Niall turned around, hand on his hips, and looked down at Louis and Harry. “Lou.”

A smile played on Louis’ lips as his gaze raked slowly up Niall’s body. “Niall.” His eyes dropped back down to Niall’s dick, and it jumped in response.

Niall leaned over and kissed Louis, long and deep. “Your turn.”

Louis grabbed the back of Niall’s thigh, moaned, and rubbed against the sheets. “My turn.”

“His turn.” Harry’s voice was scratchy.

“Yeah.” Niall crouched down so he was eye level with Harry. He tugged a limp lock of hair behind Harry’s ear, looking at his clear green eyes. The hard worry Niall was so used to seeing was missing. It made Niall’s stomach hurt even while a flickering flame spread through his chest. “His turn.”

Harry pushed himself up to a seated position and pulled on Louis’ shoulder so he’d roll over too. Niall glanced back at Liam and Zayn. Liam’s arm was draped over Zayn’s shoulder, and Zayn looked sleepy and happy while Liam looked relieved.

Louis and Harry had both rolled on their sides, facing the centre of the bed. Louis patted the space between them and Niall crawled over the mattress. He settled onto his stomach, propped himself up on his elbows and pressed a simple kiss to Harry’s lips. He turned to Louis and did the same.

His mind raced. Louis was the hardest one. Niall knew what he wanted, but he couldn’t find a way to joke about it, to make it a game.

Niall rubbed his face, covering his eyes. He just needed a little time to think.

Louis kissed one shoulder, and Harry licked the back of his arm, making Niall laugh. “My arm, really?”

A flat palm between his shoulder blades pressed him to the bed and Niall tucked his head into the crook of his elbow while Louis and Harry worked over his body. Louis put his mouth on Niall’s hip, while Harry kneaded his shoulders.

Niall knew Harry’s touch, knew his sounds, so everything unfamiliar had to be Louis, but Niall tried to forget.

Tonight was about remembering in a different way.

Feathery lips grazed over him and then he was being pushed and pulled and rolled over, and underneath him, Louis licked Niall’s neck and wrapped his arms across his back. Harry knelt over Niall and kissed him, a long, soft trail across his spine.

Louis kissed Niall, his head tilting into place smoothly, the way it hadn’t several nights earlier. Niall exhaled and sank against him. Their tongues glided past each other.

It was easy this time, and the constant noise in Niall’s head—worries about pleasing people, keeping secrets—was replaced with a river of loose memories. The nights all five of them—and then four—spent up too late, and the nights they silently ignored each other. He thought of the strangers whose arms he fell into, and the flashing of cameras. He was only vaguely aware of the light, comforting weight of Harry’s hand on his lower back while his memory mixed tours and countries, languages and venues.

Louis’ legs spread open, and Niall was jolted back into the taste and touch of him. Louis’ head rolled back, and his pulse beat against his throat. Niall groaned and sucked on the thin skin. He pushed against Louis, and his thighs fit into place, wrapped around his leg. Harry’s fingers dragged over the valley of Niall’s arse.

Niall arched his back and rocked his pelvis down against Louis, feeling bare skin against him.

Jesus Christ.

Louis rocked back, and Niall planted his hands on his chest. He pushed his weight off of Louis, giving himself leverage before he ground down against him, slow and strong.

Their hard cocks rubbed together and a whine escaped from Louis’ throat. His hand brushed the hair away from Niall’s forehead. Niall kissed him, firmer, and Louis writhed beneath him. Niall’s hands knotted in Louis’ hair and he shoved his foot under Louis’ leg, trying to draw him closer. Louis’ short nails dug into Niall’s shoulders and he pushed up against him.

“You’ve been,” Niall sucked on Louis’ earlobe, “so patient.”

“Worth it.” Louis laughed, low and throaty. It made Niall melt against him, his movements slowing. Louis kissed him and whispered, “Worth it, whatever it is.”

“I want…” Niall’s breath stuttered.

Louis’ hands rubbed over Niall’s lower back, then squeezed the sides of his waist. “Yeah? What do you want?”

Niall bit his lip. _Fuck_ was too harsh. _Make love_ wasn’t right either. He drew back so he could look at Louis. His eyes were the blue-green of a sea storm and Niall could feel the hairs on his arm prickle and rise.

Louis squeezed Niall’s bum. “Me? Do you want me?” he teased.

The words rushed across Niall’s tongue. “To be inside you.”

Louis’ eyes widened and he nodded. He inhaled deeply and grinned. “On your back. Give yourself a rest.”

Niall rolled over onto his back and looked at Harry. While Louis fished around on the nightstand, Niall and Harry kissed, but it was too slow and panic welled inside of Niall’s chest. “How?” he whispered.

Harry’s head tilted to one side and he tugged on Niall’s ear, speaking quietly. “What’s wrong?”

Niall clung to Harry. Oh God, it had always been Harry. “He’s yours, I can’t—”

“Stop.” Harry grabbed the back of Niall’s head and kissed him hard, smashing their lips together. It wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t romantic. It hurt. It was perfect. “Right now, he’s yours.”

Niall’s eyes stung and he squeezed them shut and sucked on Harry’s lower lip, nibbling and biting him until the worry dissipated. “OK, OK,” Niall said, nodding at Harry and then looking at Louis, who was kneeling next to him. “Wait, don’t you need…?”

Louis wiggled his bum and said, “You could, but…um…”

“My fingers were busy while you were busy with Zayn,” Harry said, kissing Niall’s forehead. “It was—”

“Fucking hot,” Louis said.

“We are hot,” Liam said. Zayn shushed him and the sound of kissing floated across the room.

Niall laughed and readjusted the pillow beneath his head. He took a deep breath and relief danced over him. He groaned and murmured, “Lou, Lou.”

Louis handed Harry a condom and the lube, his brows lifting in an unnecessary question. Harry took them and pressed his lips against Niall’s cheek. “He’s so lucky to get you.”

A hand wrapped around Niall’s cock, and then Louis straddled his thighs. He stroked Niall’s shaft, then rubbed the head. “Finally…”

Harry leaned forward and smoothed the condom over Niall’s dick, making Niall’s hips roll up against Louis’ weight. Harry dripped the lube over his fingers and Niall’s cock and Louis put both hands on Niall’s chest, giving Harry room to rub some over him, too.

Niall pulled on the sheets, stilled his body and gritted his teeth. He tried to calm himself down as Louis lifted above him. Harry’s fingers made a ring at the base of Niall’s dick, and it had been a long night and the last thing Niall needed was to come too quickly, but then Louis arse was against him and oh, fuck. Niall forced himself to breathe through his open mouth.

Above him, Louis arched his back, tilting toward Niall. He braced his hands on his own thighs, and looked over his shoulder, making shadows play against his throat and collarbones. With sinewy movements, he started a slow shimmy down against Niall’s cock.

Niall’s eyes widened and his head lifted off the pillow. He’d never seen anyone—male or female—move like Louis was and where the _hell_ did he learn that and _how_ was he doing that and—

“Jesus fucking Christ, holy hell,” Niall said, pounding his palms against the bed and dropping his head.

“Mm?” Louis paused, glanced at Niall and rose a little bit, freezing in place.

“No!” Niall cried. He inhaled sharply, embarrassed, and looked at the ceiling. Louis’ hips shook, and the vibrations travelled through Niall’s spine. The ceiling went soft and wet in his vision. “I mean—oh God, Lou.”

“Look at me, Niall.”

Niall brushed the back of his hand over his face and looked up at Louis.

“Oh,” Louis said, his voice dewy.

The unyielding physical pressure Niall associated with men surrounded him and he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Jesus, Lou.”

Louis leaned forward and grasped Niall’s wrists, pulling them apart just enough to see him. “Are you crying?”

Niall bit his lip to stop it from trembling and he nodded. “Yeah,” he choked out.

“Why?” Louis wiped his thumbs against the soft skin under Niall’s eyes.

Niall shook his head against Louis’ hands. “It’s…” He sniffed and took a slow breath, then held it until he felt dizzy. He blew the air out of his lungs and said, “It’s over.”

Louis squeezed his thighs around Niall’s hips and said, “I don’t think so.”

Across the room, Liam and Zayn spoke in hushed tones. Harry rubbed Niall’s side with one hand and caressed his cheek with the other. “Ni, that’s not true.”

Niall ran his hands up and down Louis’ legs and closed his eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

Lips pressed against his and Niall chased after the heat and familiarity of Harry’s mouth. Louis’ palms spread across Niall’s stomach, and he rocked his arse. “Don’t have to believe me. Just need to trust me.”

Harry pressed his thumb against Niall’s lips, and Niall opened up, letting Harry slip inside. He bit Harry’s thumb, holding it between his teeth so he couldn’t argue, so he couldn’t scream. Harry kissed his cheeks, his eyelids, the underside of his chin. It was a tender contrast to the way Louis ground against him, grasping at Niall’s cock, pushing his hands against his body.

Niall turned his head so he could breathe freely, and Harry responded by kissing his ear and tucking in next to him, one arm stretched across Niall’s chest, hand resting over his heart. Niall placed his right hand over Harry’s and pushed up against Louis’ strength.

Louis’ eyes were half closed and Niall stole glances at him. The curves in his waist looked even deeper from this angle, and his shoulders held tension in a way Niall had never seen in public or private. The blunt tip of Louis’ pale pink tongue peeked out from between his teeth, and he ran his fingers over his fringe, flicking it to the side. Niall’s heart pounded in his ears and he darted his gaze to Louis’ torso instead.

The rules may have faded, but he felt like he was witnessing something he had no right to see.

Still, Niall couldn’t look away. Louis’ stomach rippled as the muscles in his thighs worked. His cock was full, a shade darker than the rest of his body, and sticking straight out from him.

Niall rubbed the fingers of his left hand together, warming them, and then reached out for Louis. He touched the head of his cock first and Louis sighed and thrust against him. He clenched around Niall, making him moan.

“I… Fuck, Lou.” Niall’s back arched and he held onto Louis tighter. Louis glided forward and Niall pushed down along him, then pulled back when Louis did too.

“You feel so good on me, in me,” Louis said.

“You feel…incredible.”

Harry kissed Niall’s shoulder. When Niall looked, a smile played on Harry’s lips. He patted Niall’s chest and said, “Love you.” Then he moved aside, just out of reach, so Harry’s only touch was the heat emanating from his skin.

Niall licked his lips and put his other hand on Louis’ thigh, holding on to anchor himself. He closed his eyes so he could really feel the length of Louis’ dick, learn how it got thicker at the base. His fingers found the smoothness behind the head, felt the swell of it.

“Ni, oh, oh.” Louis surged forward and then careened backwards, making Niall’s whole body rock. His voice was strained and uneven. “Don’t let go.”

“Won’t, I promise.”

“Just—Ni, want you.”

“You too, oh God, Lou—”

Louis and Niall found a rhythm together. Niall thrust into him, trying to say _thank you_ and _I need this_. Louis babbled _oh_ and _now_ and _love you_. Then there was a shout and warm, pearly come covered Niall’s fingers.

Niall’s eyes flew open and it was only Louis he could see, his jaw soft, his hair wild, Louis pulsing over him. “Lou, Lou, I—it’s too hard—I—”

“I know, I know it’s hard, it’s hard for all of us.” Louis fell forward, his hands landing on Niall’s chest, and he clung to him. “But we love you, we love you.”

Niall could barely breathe. “Lou.” His pumping hips spoke for him. Thank you for sharing. His muscles tensed. For giving. Heat flickered across his body. For trusting. For—for—but there was no more time, only a gasp. “Mine, now,” he said. He spilled into the condom in hard, long strokes. “Mine.”

Thank you for taking me.

“Oh, oh yes.” Louis collapsed over Niall.

Wet kisses covered Niall’s chest, breath huffing against him, and Niall wrapped his arms around Louis, holding him tightly. A scruffy cheek rubbed against Niall’s hard nipple and Louis whispered, “Niall’s.”

“Mm.” Niall ran his fingers through Louis’ hair and closed his eyes. The only one who had always given Niall his heart but never his body had just given him both. “Yours.”

Next to them, the mattress squeaked and rose. Niall squinted at Harry, who rubbed his eyes and scooted to the edge of the bed. He held a finger to his lips and Niall nodded.

A minute later, Harry returned. “Hey,” he said quietly, touching Louis’ back. “Let me.”

Louis nodded against Niall, and rolled next to him. Niall reached for the flannel and Harry swatted his hand playfully. “You’re shy now?” He kissed Niall and then cleaned him off, taking the condom with him.

“Li—” Niall’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Liam, Zayn, you still awake?”

“We are,” Liam said.

“You’re quiet.”

“Seemed right,” Liam said.

“Come here.” Niall kissed Louis’ forehead. He spoke louder, so Harry could hear him. “All of you.”

“I’m coming,” Harry called.

Niall’s whole body was sore, like after a good footie match, or a few rounds of golf. He stretched and moved to the centre of the bed, adjusting pillows and sheets. The room grew dimmer as Harry turned off the lights one by one. Finally, Louis and Zayn and Liam and Harry settled in around Niall. In the darkness, Harry and Liam whispered loudly, counting “one, two, three, now!” and laughing and snapping the duvet in the air until they finally got it to fall over everyone.

“Thank you,” Niall said, his cheeks warm and his voice wavering. Zayn yawned and murmured some sort of agreement, and the rest joined in.

They were a tangle of limbs wrapped in breath and Niall could hear each one of them. It was like listening to their own songs, pulling each note out—the steady draw of Zayn’s inhalations, the way Louis mumbled in his sleep, the tugging noise the cotton sheets made as Liam stretched his legs, the swish of Harry’s hair when he turned his head against the pillow—and the full, slow thump of Niall’s heart in his chest.

Niall prayed for the sun to sleep a little longer, for the night to stretch out, just a few more minutes, God. Just tonight.

“Thank you,” Niall whispered again. He held his breath but nobody replied. “I…” He swallowed hard and waited. He had time, they were asleep, and he should be, too, but… “I love you.” His words barely made it past his lips. “I’ll miss you.”

Niall was finally drifting off when he heard his name, like the wind against sand.

“Niall…”

“Louis?”

“You…” Louis coughed and Niall held his breath, but nobody else stirred. “I think…”

He paused for too long and Niall was tired but he needed to hear. “Yeah?”

“You’re the axle, you know.”

Niall’s brow creased. “The axle?”

“Yeah, the…the middle of the wheel, the whole part that makes it turn.”

“Lou, I’m not—”

“Yeah you are.” Louis touched Niall’s stomach. “You make us go. You’re the heart of it all.”

Tears welled in Niall’s eyes. “I don’t know wh—”

“Tell us when you’re ready.” Louis drummed his fingers against the valleys of Niall’s ribcage. “We’ll come home for you.”

Niall threaded his fingers between Louis’. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

Niall yawned and gave up the fight to keep his eyes open. He squeezed Louis’ hand in his own. “I believe you.”

Louis might have said _good_ or maybe he said _night_ or he could have said nothing, but it didn’t matter, because Niall fell asleep knowing no matter they were, he was already home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Feel free to visit me on [Tumblr](http://gettingaphdinlarry.tumblr.com/), where there's also a [masterpost](http://gettingaphdinmomo.tumblr.com/post/156785649946/the-love-that-brings-me-home) available if you'd like to reblog it. I'd love to chat with you about writing, fic, and the band.


End file.
